


First

by thefrankydoyles



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrankydoyles/pseuds/thefrankydoyles
Summary: There's a first time for everything: A series of short one-shots detailing various "first" time events for Bridget and Franky - Loosely follows the timeline of Season 4





	1. Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I've been around mostly reading the brilliant work that is on here for Bridget and Franky, and I finally decided to give it a go myself. I haven't written in a while (fiction at least), so I apologize because I am definitely a little rusty. As for this story, it's something that I've been playing around with for a while. I have other ideas for other "events", so let me know if this is something you all would be interested in continuing to read!

If Franky had to choose her favorite thing about Bridget's house, it would definitely have to be the kitchen. She had only just seen it for the first time a few days ago, but damn the thing was a work of art. Plus, she was dying to finally be able to cook in a kitchen that didn't have the knives chained to the counter top.

Cooking had always relaxed Franky, something she discovered as a young girl when she was forced to prepare her own meals much sooner than any kid should have to. She used cooking as a way to escape; she loved getting lost in the process, figuring out new recipes and dishes. It was ironic that the very thing that helped her with her anger so many times in the past aided in landing her in prison. 

However, besides looking forward to really digging back into her favorite hobby, she was admittedly looking forward to cooking for Bridget. Sure, Bridget had eaten food that Franky had prepared in Wentworth, but it was hardly the same; she barely had enough to work with to make a decent grilled cheese. 

Five days after Franky stepped off of Wentworth’s property for the final time, she had the perfect opportunity to get aquatinted with this gorgeous kitchen; Bridget was back at Wentworth for her first full day of work since she was forced to resign. Vera had given her a call the day before, apologizing for her responsibility in getting Bridget fired and asking her to "please come back" as the "women needed her". Of course they did! She was one of the only people in that place that actually treated them like respected human beings. Franky was just so thankful that Bridget had her job back- she loved it and was fucking great at it. She didn't think she could live with herself if Bridget had lost it permanently because of her. 

Franky planned to surprise Bridget when she got home with what she had sneakily discovered was one of her favorite dishes- sautéed chicken and gnocchi in a red wine sauce. It had been a long time since Franky made pasta and sauce from scratch, but she was confident she could do it. All she needed were a few ingredients and a few hours, and she was good to go. 

 

Six hours later, Franky was putting the finishing touches on the meal. It turned out pretty damn good, if she did say so herself. She just hoped that Bridget liked it, and didn’t mind the surprise. As she searched for silverware, her mind wandered to how the hell she ended up in this gorgeous kitchen in the first place. Five days on the outside and she was still constantly worried that she would wake up from this dream at any moment. She thought she didn’t deserve any of this, and certainly not Bridget. Bridget, her compass that led her out of Wentworth and onto a path she thought she might never get the chance to walk on. Her compass, that she ended up falling for. Hard. And by some miracle, she thought, Bridget had fallen for her too. 

Six months ago if someone told her that she would be cooking dinner for her girlfriend just five days after being paroled, she would have laughed in their face. She gave up hope a long time ago of ever having a stable, loving relationship. The very thing that, if she was being honest with herself, she always dreamed of having. But this felt right.  
Franky took a deep breath and wiped away the stray tear that somehow made its way down her cheek, and finished setting the table. 

Not five minutes later the front door pushed open. 

Franky heard the clunking sound of two high heels being kicked off and then “My god what is that? It smells amazing in here.” 

“Hiya gorgeous! Come in and have a look,” Franky yelled back. 

Bridget stopped walking once she could see what Franky was up to, and stood with her mouth agape. 

“Oh my god, Franky this must have taken you all day.”

“It was your first day back, Gidge- thought you deserved a little more than takeaway, even if it’s from that fucking amazing Italian place down the block.” 

Bridget stepped towards Franky and Franky could swear in that moment she saw Bridget’s eyes glisten over, but she didn’t have time to put anymore thought into it as she felt Bridget’s lips crash onto hers. 

“Mm, hello to you too, Spunky. I’ll make you dinner every night if this is the hello I get,” Franky said with an open mouthed smile. 

Bridget smirked and raised her eyebrows teasingly “mm, no objections here. In fact, I would suggest venturing into the bedroom to have some dessert first if I wasn’t so damn hungry.”

Franky raised her eyebrows back and clicked her tongue flirtatiously. “Well lucky for you, I think dessert will be just as tasty after dinner. Shall we eat?”

“Let's eat.”


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky accidentally wakes Bridget up during a particularly bad night terror

Bridget Westfall was a heavy sleeper, but not even she would sleep through the guttural scream that came piercing from the woman lying next to her in the dead of night. As her brain caught up with her body, she quickly recognizes the now gentle sobbing coming from her girlfriend. Bridget realizes that she is still asleep; her eyes are closed and her body twitching. She worries about startling her awake, but can’t bear to see her in this much pain. 

"Franky darling, you're okay. Baby, wake up. You're safe." Bridget gently rubs her girlfriend’s arms and whispers words of comfort. 

All of the sudden, the sobbing ceases and Franky’s eyes shoot open. Used to another person waking her up only signaling immediate danger, Franky goes into defense mode, and Bridget narrowly misses being socked in the eye with an elbow. 

Bridget lets go of her but remains steadfast and calm. "Franky, it’s me. Look at me. You're safe. You're safe.” 

Once she sees the gradual look recognition come into Franky’s green eyes, Bridget brings her into her arms and rocks her back and forth as Franky begins to sob once more. Bridget actively takes slow, deep breaths, so that Franky can feel them against her chest. After a few minutes Franky’s breathing becomes more even, closely mirroring Bridget's. 

Bridget continues to hold Franky and stroke her hair, and after a few minutes hears a quiet, muffled “I’m so sorry, Gidge.” 

"For what?"

“For scaring you like that. For almost punching you in the face. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so sorry."

Franky's face is still covered, and Bridget knows that Franky is feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable, as well as embarrassed.

"Shhhhh." Bridget continues to rub slow circles on Franky’s back. "You're safe here, you're safe with me."

Bridget slowly lays Franky down against the pillows, whispering to her that she’ll be right back. She pads to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth, and brings it back to Franky, placing it on her forehead. Quickly, she reaches over to the bureau and grabs another t-shirt. She turns back around and tentatively reaches for the hem of Franky’s current sweat-soaked t-shirt, silently asking for permission to lift the garment off of her. 

Franky nods but averts her eyes. Bridget lifts her shirt, and quickly replaces it with the soft clean one. Bridget places a gentle kiss on her forehead and climbs back onto the bed, pulling Franky into her arms once more. 

Bridget realizes Franky is crying again, and worries that she did something wrong. Her mind racing, she thinks that perhaps she crossed the line; maybe Franky didn’t want her help, or felt too exposed having Bridget change her shirt for her in such a vulnerable state. 

Her worried thoughts are interrupted when Franky squeaks out against her neck a muffled "thank you" and holds onto Bridget even tighter. 

Bridget's heart aches at the words. She quickly realizes that most likely, no one has ever soothed Franky after a nightmare. No one has held her, no one has wiped her tears and told her that it’s okay. No one has listened. 

"Franky, can you look at me?" 

Franky finally lifts her head up and wipes her tear stained cheeks with the backs of her hands. Eventually she looks into Bridget's eyes- the same beautiful blue eyes that have given her a sense of peace from day one. 

Taking Franky’s face into her hands, Bridget breathes out, "You are so welcome, beautiful. I am here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise."

Franky looks upwards to blink back some fresh tears, and gently shakes her head and blows out some raspberries, as if she still can't quite believe that Bridget is real.

"Baby? You don't have to talk about it, but I'm here if you want to. I'm right here." 

Franky simply moves her hand to rest against the back of Bridget's neck, and leans in to place a short but tender kiss on Bridget's lips. 

When she pulls back, Franky runs a finger along Bridget's jaw line, like she's trying to etch every curve into her memory; as if Bridget might just disappear before into thin air if she’s not careful.  
Franky shakes her head again, "I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve ya, Gidge". 

Bridget frowns slightly. "You deserve everything good in this world, Franky, and I'll keep telling you that until you believe it". 

Franky leans into Bridget's embrace again and absent-mindedly starts twirling a piece of Bridget's thick, blonde hair. 

Bridget knows that there are demons in Franky’s life that she hasn’t even met yet, and she was sure they often haunted Franky in her sleep. Bridget had such an overwhelming desire to protect this beautiful woman, something she had never felt so strongly for anyone else in her life before. 

"I really am sorry for almost deckin' ya, Gidge". 

Bridget chuckles lightly and strokes a few stray hairs off of Franky’s face. "It's okay, darling. Small price to pay to get you out of that nightmare, hmm?" 

Franky sighs.  
"So, ya sure you wanna hear about this?" 

"Only if you want to tell me" 

Franky takes a deep breath and begins recounting the particular nightmare that had so violently shaken her from her peaceful slumber just a bit ago.  
Bridget sits back and listens, just as she always did, and just as she always will.


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget joins Franky on her daily run

"It's gotta be 8:00 by now, yeah?" 

"Narr, oh come on Gidget don't give up on me yet!" 

Bridget stood with her hand on her hip and wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to catch her breath. Three miles in and she was wondering how on earth she let Franky convince her to go running. In the summer heat no less. 

Meanwhile, Franky continued to bounce on her heels and jog in place, attempting to keep her heart rate up. 

"Come on, spunky bum, one more mile and I'll let you out of your misery."

Bridget groaned.

"Plus," Franky wiggled her eyebrows seductively, "there might just be a prize at the end."

Bridget let out a full laugh now that she has caught her breath. "Oh yeah, and what's that?" 

Franky didn't answer, and instead simply unzipped the front of her sweat jacket, revealing her tight black sports bra. 

"Come and get me," Franky said before she bolted down the beach. 

"Oh, and who's the minx now?" Bridget smirked and muttered to herself. 

Bridget shook her head but started after Franky nonetheless. She admittedly had a renewed energy to finish this hellish activity knowing that Franky was waiting for her practically half naked down the beach. 

It wasn't that Bridget didn't exercise. On the contrary Bridget was extremely fit and toned, and worked out far more than most of her peers. She just fucking hated running. Always had and probably always will. But she knew Franky loved it, and she was curious to see where her girlfriend went for an hour each morning after the sun came up. 

When Bridget reached Franky five minutes later, she was already sitting on the surf's edge with her bare toes in water. Bridget's breath hitched in the back of her throat, and it wasn't just because of the impressive mile she just completed. 

Franky heard her approaching and turned around towards her, using her hand as a visor above her eyes as the early sun reflected off of her hair. 

"My champion!" Franky proclaimed with her arms wide as Bridget made a show of collapsing onto the warm sand next to her. 

The women sat in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, with Bridget's hand draped lazily over Franky's.  
Bridget could tell Franky was thinking about something; her eyes were focused on a wave out in the distance as she bit down on her bottom lip. 

Franky emerged from her thoughts, but still kept her eyes locked on the waves. "If I could only travel to one place for the rest of my life, this would be it. It's just so beautiful and open, ya know?"

Bridget smiled at Franky, but didn't answer the rhetorical question, as she didn't want to disturb her thought process. She did, however, think to herself that she was damn glad that Franky would never actually have to make that choice; she was free now, and soon she could travel anywhere she wanted. 

Franky continued, "When I was old enough to go for walks by myself, I always ended up at the beach." She licked her lips and clicked her tongue, trying to find the words.  
"I dunno, just looking at the water like this? It reminded me that there was more out there in this world than mums who bashed and burned their kids and dads who left them. Even when it didn't seem like it." 

Bridget tightened her grasp on Franky's hand and pressed her lips against her temple. "In seven months, we can go to any beach in the world that you want," she whispered softly.

Franky finally turned and looked at Bridget before pulling her in for a longer kiss. "Well for now, I'll settle for this one, with the fucking sexiest girl in the world sitting next to me." 

Franky started to stand and brush the sand from the back of her track shorts. "Who, by the way, I believe is due to collect some sort of prize?" 

Bridget pretended to play dumb as she took Franky’s hand to stand. "A nap?" 

Franky started slowing walking backwards as she shook her head.  
“Nah.” 

"A pizza?" 

Franky again shook her head, picking up her pace and shrugging off her zip-up, leaving her clad only in her sports bra and shorts. She turned around and broke into a jog heading towards the house. 

"Guess you'll just have to come and find it, Gidge," she called over her shoulder." But don't wait too long. I would run if I were you."


	4. Franky's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget surprises Franky on her birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giant thank you to everyone who has read and left kudos and comments! Any feedback is so appreciated. I hope you continue to enjoy, and please feel free to leave a prompt suggestion or two!

"Hands down, best birthday sex ever."

Bridget grinned widely, still panting trying to catch her breath. Her legs were intertwined with Franky's, her arms wrapped around her neck. The bed was bare, except for a single sheet, as the rest of the pillows and blankets had been tossed off during the flurry of activity.

Before going to bed the previous night, Bridget set her alarm 20 minutes earlier than usual. She wanted to wake Franky up with a little birthday surprise to start her day, and she would say it was a rousing success.

Franky rolled on top of Bridget to capture her already swollen lips in a crushing kiss, not ready to greet the day quite yet. Eventually both women begrudgingly got themselves out of bed, and Bridget mentioned to Franky that she was going to leave work no later than 6:00, so that they could celebrate her birthday properly.

"Gidge, it's really not that big of a deal, please don't worry about rushing home if you're caught up in something at Wentworth." Franky pulled the blankets and duvet back onto the bed.

"Franky Doyle, your birthday is so a big deal, and we're celebrating. No if's and's or but's." Bridget placed a kiss on Franky’s lips to distract her from protesting any more.

Twenty-five minutes later, Bridget wished Franky a happy birthday again, and both women went on their separate ways.

Bridget smiled to herself in her car, thinking of the little white lie she had told Franky, and hoped that she would enjoy her surprise later.

***  
Greeted by the bright afternoon sun, Bridget rolled out of the gates at Wentworth at 2:00, not 6:00, as she had previously told Franky. She needed at least a few hours in the kitchen, and just prayed that her baking skills weren't too rusty.

After picking up the ingredients she needed from the shops, Bridget entered the house at 2:45 and quickly got to work.

***

Franky opened the front door at 6:30 sharp, kicking off her high black boots and throwing her bag down on the floor.

"Is that the birthday girl I hear?"

Franky entered the kitchen and joked "nope, postal service."

Bridget chuckled softly and closed the space between her and Franky with a tender kiss. "How was your day, baby?"

"Ace actually. I feel good about the Administrative exam." As Franky surveyed the kitchen, she noticed a small, nicely wrapped square shaped box (but too big to be a ring), and a card placed in the center of the long table.

"Gidget, what is that? I said you didn't need to get me anything!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bridget said with a glint in her eye as she handed the present to Franky.

Franky shook her head and sighed but didn't protest, as she opened the envelope and began to read the card that Bridget had written in her loopy scrawl.

_Franky,_  
_Happy birthday, my darling. I can't even begin to describe to you how happy I am to be able to spend your birthday with you. Thank you for coming into my life and stealing my heart, and making my world so bright. I am beyond proud of you, Franky. You have worked so hard this year and you deserve the world. I can't wait to stand by your side in all that you do in the coming year; I know you will be amazing. I hope you feel as special as you are today, and every other day of the year._

_All my love,_  
_Gidge_

Franky bit her bottom lip to stop a tear from falling as she finished reading the card. She opened her mouth to speak, to try to put into words what Bridget's written words meant to her, but before she could, Bridget placed the small wrapped square in her hand.

"Open it," Bridget requested with a gleam in her eye.

"Jeez Gidge I think you're more excited than I am!"

Franky tore the wrapping paper and opened the box, and her breath audibly caught in her throat. Inside was a champagne gold tennis bracelet, with pavé cut crystals lining the length of the bracelet. It came together at the clasp to meet a gold charm in the outline of a Phoenix.

"Thought it would go perfectly with your new tattoo," Bridget whispered. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? Fuck Gidge it's gorgeous." Franky's eyes were still wide, as her fingertips traced the crystals and stopped at the Phoenix's wings.

One of the things that Bridget learned about Franky when she got out of Wentworth was that the woman had quite the appreciation for jewelry, especially rings and bracelets. Bridget wanted to get her something nice to wear to work but that was also quintessentially "Franky". She happened to spot the Phoenix bracelet one day about a month ago, and within five minutes had made the purchase.

Bridget carefully removed the bracelet from its original box and clasped it around Franky’s small wrist.

"Perfect fit, too. Thank you Gidge, it's beautiful. I can't stop fucking staring at it!"

Bridget chuckled and started walking over to the fridge, "I have one more thing and then we can do whatever you want."

"Okay I seriously can't handle any more presents. It’s too much."

Bridget's back was to Franky as she opened the fridge door "it's not really a present, just wouldn't be your birthday without a cake."

She turned around and Franky saw what she had taken out- a small three layer German chocolate cake, with a coconut-pecan layering and icing. It looked delectable.

Franky simply stared and asked, "You made that?"

“Well you didn’t think you were going to get off without a cake did you?”  
Bridget placed the cake on the table and turned back around to rummage through the drawer for a lighter.

"I hope you like it, it's my grandmother's recipe actually. Haven't made it in ages, although I used to all the time. Although I still doubt it’s anything compared to your skills but-"  
Bridget stopped her sentence short, turning around to emerge triumphant with the lighter. Her grin was immediately replaced with furrowed brows and a worried expression, as she saw a tear fall from Franky’s eye. She closed the gap between them and took Franky’s hands in her own, gently asking what’s wrong.

Franky was silent for a few beats, and when she spoke again her voice was quiet, almost fragile.  
"No one's ever made me a birthday cake before."

Bridget took a deep breath and suddenly felt so stupid for just assuming that Franky has had all the simple birthday traditions in her life before, like someone baking her a homemade cake. Bridget’s heart ached and all she wanted to do was make this woman a birthday cake every year for the rest of her life. Bridget wiped her own tears away.

"Aw come on Gidge don’t you cry too. Thank you so much, I really mean that. And it looks fucking amazing, I had no idea you could bake like this! You've been holdin’ out on me."

"Hardly,” Bridget sniffled. “I've just been making this cake since I was 15 years old, so I hope it's at least somewhat decent by now!"  
Bridget then did her best rendition of "Happy Birthday" while Franky stood next to the cake and blushed profusely. She closed her eyes to make a wish, but truth be told she had no idea what to wish for- she couldn't imagine her life getting any better than it was in that moment.

"You have one more job, birthday girl."  
Bridget handed the knife to Franky for her to cut the first slices of cake.

After Franky cut two perfect slices and placed them carefully on their plates, Bridget pulled her in for a tender kiss and leaned her forehead against Franky’s.

"Happy birthday, baby."


	5. Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget tells Franky something she's never told anyone.  
> CONTENT WARNING- RETELLING OF A SEXUAL ASSAULT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to suchterriblesilence for the prompt suggestion- "Franky learns something unexpected about Bridget".  
> Sorry this one is pretty heavy, but I decided to tackle the subject since the WW writers planted the seed that Bridget may or may not have been sexually assaulted at some point in her past. I hope I did the scenario justice.

"You are fucking amazing, you know that?" Bridget groaned. 

Franky continued to knead a particular rough knot in the back of Bridget's neck. 

"What can I say Gidge, I'm good with my fingers." 

Bridget smirked, fondly remembering their escapades on the kitchen counter and the floor just a couple hours ago.  
"Yes, yes you are." 

Franky continued massaging Bridget's neck and shoulders, something she had insisted on doing after Bridget told her why she was popping three ibuprofen. Bridget hadn’t had time to protest before Franky pulled her down to sit on the living room floor, while she positioned herself on the couch with Bridget's back in front of her, between her legs. 

Bridget closed her eyes and hummed contently. It was just their fourth Friday spent together after Franky had gotten parole, and already she couldn't quite seem to remember what she did with her weekends before that. And she definitely couldn't remember the last time someone had given her a massage. 

Bridget had just started to doze off when she felt Franky run her finger along the jagged, linear shaped scar under her hairline on her neck. 

"Where's this from, Gidge?" 

Bridget immediately tensed up, straightened her back and subconsciously pulled her body slightly forward, away from Franky. 

"Um, it's from a long time ago. When I was still in school."

"Oh." 

Bridget knew that Franky felt her tense up, but she also didn't think that Franky would push the topic further if she didn't add anything else to her explanation. Bridget knew she could change the subject, and that would be the end of it.

Bridget didn't want to tell the story behind her scar; she'd never actually told anyone except for her own therapist, and that was about fifteen years ago. But she trusted Franky, and how was it fair for her to omit the truth when she knew where so many of Franky's scars came from, before Franky even got to have a say? 

"I was-" Bridget took a deep breath.  
"I was attacked one night back at uni." 

Bridget paused again.  
She kept her back to Franky; she couldn't bear to look at her. She didn't think she had ever felt more vulnerable around a loved one in her entire life. 

Franky stayed silent behind her, and Bridget panicked for a split second, wondering irrationally if Franky's view of her as strong and solid was now shattered. 

Bridget felt like a hypocrite. How many times had she sat in front of women who disclosed stories of assault to her, and how many time had she looked them in the eye- told them over and over that it wasn't their fault? That they didn't deserve what happened to them? That their assault had nothing to do with their character and strength as individuals, and didn't make them any 'less than'? Bridget could intellectualize this and apply the knowledge to herself, but it didn't help the shame she still felt whenever she thought back to that night. 

Bridget was shaken out of her thoughts when she felt Franky lightly dragging her fingertips up and down her bare arms, from her wrists to her shoulder. She had shared with Franky one night the previous week that the feeling had always calmed her, ever since her mother did it for her to help her fall asleep as a child. 

Bridget sighed and leaned back against Franky's legs again, as some of the tension slowly eased from her body. 

Franky slid down from the couch, so that she was sitting on the floor, positioned between the couch and Bridget’s back. She wrapped her arms around Bridget's waist from behind and peppered her neck with a few soft kisses. 

"Gidge, if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's okay." 

"No, no, I do." Bridget responded without hesitation. That was something Bridget didn't question- she knew in her heart that she wanted to share her story with Franky; trusted her implicitly. She also knew that Franky was the first person in her life that she could say that about. 

"It's just... it's just that I've never actually told anyone what happened before. The truth, at least. Except for one therapist."

Bridget's eyes were closed and her right hand was covering part of her face, as she rushed through her words. Fucking hell, she thought to herself. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to actually get through this- to tell Franky everything. She again felt like a hypocrite. She was so proud of Franky for working so damn hard to let some of those concrete walls down around herself, and here Bridget was sitting in front of her, not sure if she could do it herself. 

But she knew she had to try. She owed it to Franky. She owed it to herself even more. 

Franky spoke softly again, resting her chin on Bridget's shoulder, "I'll tell ya what, I'm just gonna sit here and listen, okay? And you can tell me whatever you want to. No pressure at all. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." 

Bridget turned for the first time, putting her face into Franky's neck.  
"Thank you," she whispered. 

Franky kissed the top of Bridget's head, and laced her own fingers together around the front of Bridget's waist. 

Bridget took a deep breath for what felt like the thousandth time already.

"I was twenty years old in my second year at university. One of my best mates, Gemma, had this boyfriend named Matt at the time who had these house parties every weekend. Me and some of our other friends usually went to his parties because we got to drink for free. Also, Matt's house was only a ten-minute walk from the apartment I shared with Gemma at the time. Anyway, so this one Saturday night in August, we were at one of Matt's parties. He had a group of mates there that night that none of us had ever met, friends of friends type of thing."

Bridget felt herself tense again, and tried her best to relax. 

"All of them seemed like a bunch of drunk pricks to be honest, but this one guy in particular kept harassing me all night. Wouldn't let up. At first it was just typical stuff, asking if I wanted a drink, if he could dance with me. But when I kept saying no, that's when he started to get belligerent, and I remember him grabbing my wrist as I tried to walk away, telling me that I didn't know what I was missing. He let go but slapped my arse. I had enough at that point and went to find Gemma to leave. Long story short, she didn't want to leave then, so I decided to walk home by myself. It was late, but I'd done it a million times.”

Bridget's voice betrayed her and cracked. Franky reached for her hand and rubbed the tops of her fingers.

"I was so stupid, I didn't see that he had followed me out the door. I didn't hear him until he was right behind me. It was too late at that point. There was no one else around. It was cold that night, maybe that’s why.” 

Bridget closed her eyes and felt tears threatening to fall. She hadn't let herself think this much of the details of her assault for so long. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry and she shivered, remembering his hands and breath on her body. 

"I'm here, I'm with you," Bridget heard Franky whisper against her ear.  
It was enough to give her the courage to keep talking. 

"I tried to run but he grabbed me by the wrist and pushed me against a tree. And with one arm too, because he was holding a stupid fucking beer bottle in his other hand. He was easily twice my height and weight; I knew the only chance I had was if someone heard me, so I started to scream and of course he covered my mouth. I bit down on his hand and that's when he broke the beer bottle over my head. He said something like 'stupid bitch, you'll regret that'. That's when he knocked my head against the trunk of the tree and I felt a piece of glass go into my neck."

Bridget didn't realize that she was gripping Franky’s hands for dear life, or that a few tears had fallen from her cheeks onto Franky’s arm. She also didn't notice that her shoulder had a few stray tears on it as well, from the woman who's heart was breaking behind her, knowing what was coming next. 

"The rest is a bit of a blur. He pushed my skirt up and tore my underwear, stuck his fingers inside me. I just froze. I remember trying to focus on a tree branch in front of me. I tried to count the leaves. Anything to take me away from what was happening. It was like my mind just shut off. I know now that it’s a perfectly normal response to an assault, but..."  
Bridget's voice trailed off as she collected her thoughts again. 

She pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to shake the now very vivid and unwelcome memory. 

"When he was done with me, he didn't even say anything. Just turned and walked away, back to the house. I couldn't move at first, I felt like I was stuck to that damn tree. Eventually I picked myself up and walked back to my apartment. I showered and just got into my bed. Laid there for hours. I know I should have gone straight to hospital, but I didn't. I just wanted to forget it ever happened. I thought that if I pretended it didn't happened, the whole thing would just go away. Obviously, I know now that isn't the case. I did end up going to hospital the next morning, but only for my neck. I needed ten stitches. The doctor didn't ask any other questions." 

Bridget sighed. "And I never told anyone. I was so ashamed; my twenty-year-old self thought people would look at me differently or wonder what I had done wrong. I understand intellectually that I didn't do anything wrong. That it wasn't my fault that some egotistical predator attacked me. It didn’t stop me from wondering though. What if I had stayed at the party? What if I left just fifteen minutes later, or earlier? What if he knew I were gay? Would that make it better, or worse? To this day it's still hard for me to apply all the knowledge and resources that I have to my situation, to completely reconcile with myself. I know that might make me seem hypocritical. I've sat in front of you and told you with all my heart and conviction that everything that happened to you wasn't your fault. Because it's not, it never is..." 

Bridget's voiced cracked as she choked on the last words. 

Franky finally spoke again as Bridget felt two strong and comforting arms wrap protectively around her chest.  
"You are not a hypocrite." 

Bridget held back a sob. 

"It's okay to cry, baby." 

At Franky words, Bridget couldn't hold back anymore, and her shoulders wracked with sobs. She had never let herself cry over her assault; not when it happened, not when she thought about it, not even when she told her therapist those years ago. But she cried now in Franky’s embrace.

Franky held her tight as Bridget let her emotions finally wash over her. When she wiped her eyes and took a ragged breath, she felt a sense of relief wash over her she hadn't felt before.

Franky untangled herself from between Bridget and the couch, crouched in front of Bridget, and took her face in her hands. 

Bridget could see now that Franky had evidence of her own tears outlining her cheeks. 

Franky’s voice was soft but strong and steady.

"First of all, I wanna kill that prick. Second of all-" 

Franky paused as she took her own deep breath and looked into Bridget's shining blue eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing this with me and trusting me with this, Gidge." Franky blew out a sigh of raspberries. 

"You are incredible, you know that? You are the strongest, bravest person I've ever met in my life. You're not alone with this anymore, okay? And I'll tell ya again- you are not a hypocrite. You're not your own psychologist, you know? And you should never have to be. And now you have me to remind you about all those things that you’ve been telling me too, every day- that you're amazing, and kind, and wonderful, and beautiful. Because this is a two-way street, and we're partners now, yeah?" 

Bridget smiled at Franky as another tear fell onto her cheek, but it came accompanied with a much different emotion than all her previous tears from the last hour. 

"Absolutely." 

Bridget held her gaze in Franky's eyes, and thought, not for the first time, about how much she loved this woman. She hadn't spoken those exact words to Franky yet, cautious about how ready Franky was to here them. And she didn't think the proper time to tell her was right after disclosing an assault, either. They both were emotionally drained. But soon enough, she would tell her. 

"Thank you," Bridget said instead simply, worried that anything else would produce what would have had to been her twentieth round of tears. 

"You don't need to thank me, but you're welcome. You're so very welcome." 

Franky stood up off the floor and extended her hand to Bridget, pulling her to her feet. She wrapped Bridget back into a tight embrace and kissed the top of her head. 

"Let's go to bed," Bridget whispered, her head tucked into the crook of Franky's neck. 

Less than ten minutes later both women were under the covers, their arms and legs wrapped around each other. 

Franky spoke softly against Bridget's chest, "you do know how incredible you are though, right, Gidge?" 

Bridget smiled and stroked a piece of hair from Franky's forehead. "Yeah, well, right back atcha, babe." 

Bridget noticed that Franky held onto her just a little bit tighter that night. She didn't mind one bit.


	6. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget introduces Franky to her best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always pictured Bridget to be someone who had a couple of really close friends (because she would be such a good friend herself). Enjoy!!

Bridget was standing against the counter in the kitchen, with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed on Franky. She watched as Franky opened and closed the refrigerator door three times in row, without taking anything out. 

"Babe, I don't think the contents of the fridge are going to change." 

Franky jumped and spun around.

"Shit! What the fuck, Gidge? Don't sneak up on me like that." 

Franky groaned and sat down at the counter, picking up the pen next to the half-finished grocery list she started over and hour ago. 

Bridget sat down next to her and took the pen from her hand.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." 

Franky shook her head, "narr, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. I was just in my head. I'm sorry for snapping." 

Bridget took notice of Franky's right foot bouncing on the floor under the counter, a nervous tick that she learned to recognize in Franky before they barely even knew each other. 

"Franky, really, if having Shannon and Mike over tonight is too much, it's okay. They will completely understand." 

Shannon and Mike were Bridget's oldest and closest friends, whom she first met in high school. The three of them were lucky in that even though they all went their separate paths as adults, they managed to grow together instead of apart. It was rare all three of them got together more than once a month, but Bridget counted her blessings. She knew she was fortunate to have wonderful friends who she trusted and loved. 

In fact, Bridget had confided in Shannon about her feelings for Franky before Franky was granted parole. Bridget was an intensely private person, but after she realized the extent of her feelings for Franky, she just needed to fucking talk to someone. She needed her best friend. She remembered that night vividly, when she ended up on Shannon's doorstep at ten o'clock on a Wednesday night. 

"I think I'm in love with one of my clients in Wentworth and I have no clue what the fuck I'm going to do." 

Bridget didn't end up saying much else that night, and Shannon didn't push her, or tell her what to do, or not to do. Bridget supposed that's why she ended up there that night, instead of at Mike's or her brother's house. She didn't want advice. She didn't need a lecture on how a relationship with an inmate, even a former one, wasn’t plausible, that she could lose not only her job but her license. She just wanted someone to sit with her and empathize with this utterly insane predicament and tell her it was going to be okay. 

Franky took the pen back from Bridget, and tapped it on her grocery list. 

"No, I just can't decide what to fucking make for dinner." 

Bridget cocked her head with a raised eyebrow and gave her a pointed look. Franky sighed and shook her head. 

"Okay, fine. I'm freaking the fuck out, Gidge. I've never met a girlfriend's friends before, I was never exactly the type of girl that people brought to dinner parties and group dates and shit, ya know? What if they don't like me? I mean, they certainly already have grounds not to." 

Bridget took the pen from Franky for the second time, and replaced it with her own hand, gripping Franky's fingers. 

"Franky, they only know what I've told them about you, which is that you are wonderful and beautiful and make me happy. They're going to love you."

"That's sweet, Gidge, but it's also bullshit. There's no way that as soon as you told them you were dating Franky Doyle that they didn't pull up my awesome viral YouTube debut. I'm sure seeing me throw hot oil all over a man's face really convinced them that I was a catch, yeah?" 

Bridget frowned. "Okay, yeah I'm sure they've seen it but you just have to trust me here. They're good people, babe, and they really care about me. And I think they can see how happy I am and they know that it's because of you. And they want to meet that girl, the one who's made their old best mate so damn happy. That's all. But like I said, if you're not ready, that's okay too."

Franky leaned her forehead into Bridget's shoulder.  
"I know. I believe ya, I do. And really, I am excited to meet them, they sound great, Gidge. Plus, you better believe that I'm gonna milk them for all the baby lezzo Bridget stories they have!"

"Oh dear god, yeah you know, on second thought, maybe we should just reschedule..." 

"Too late!" Franky sang as she grabbed her grocery list and bag from the counter, placed a kiss on Bridget's lips, and ran out the door. 

Bridget shook her head and smiled at the whirlwind that just exited the house. Her beautiful whirlwind. She knew what a big deal this was for Franky, and she knew how nervous she was about meeting her best mates. Bridget wasn't dense; she knew what a completely new world this was for Franky. Two and a half months ago she was living a life solely for the purpose of survival; fending off 'psychopaths and dickheads', worrying about being shived and throwing up balloons of heroin. Now, she was thrust into this very different world- Bridget's world, where all of the sudden she found herself about to wine and dine with Bridget's childhood friends. It was a huge transition, to say the least, and Bridget didn't want to downplay the stress or the importance. 

She was so proud of Franky, she was so proud to introduce her to her friends. And, admittedly, she couldn't wait to brag a bit- how Franky had just aced her first course exam in her Administrative Law class, that she was taking a full course load while also applying for various legal positions to get her foot in the door. She also couldn't wait for her two friends to completely fawn over Franky's cooking. It had been Franky's idea to cook tonight, and Bridget hadn't protested. Besides knowing that the meal would be better than anything Bridget, or a restaurant for that matter, could cook up, she knew that being in charge of the meal would help ease Franky's anxiety. Cooking relaxed her, was natural to her, and she could use it to easily excuse herself from the company for a bit if she needed to. 

Bridget's thoughts were interrupted when she heard her phone vibrate on the counter. She smiled at Franky's name on the front of her screen. 

"How about chicken Marsala?" 

Bridget quickly typed out her reply, "Sounds perfect, babe. Can't wait. x" 

***

"Mmm," Bridget hummed as she stole a quick taste of the sauce that was simmering on the stove. 

Franky reached over and playful swatted her hand away. "Oi, can you be trusted in here while I go get dressed?" 

Bridget scoffed in mock offense.

"It'll be tough, but I think I can handle it."

Franky winked at Bridget as she exited the kitchen, and Bridget waited until Franky had rounded the corner to steal another taste of the sauce. 

Twenty minutes later Bridget walked towards the bedroom in search of Franky.

"Babe, are you almost ready? They'll be here in a few." 

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't like what I had picked out and changed." 

Bridget followed the sound of Franky's voice coming from the bathroom, and entered to see her standing at the vanity, applying a last touch of eye shadow. 

Bridget took in the sight of her girlfriend. She was wearing gray jeans and a sleeveless, shear black collar blouse. She had her favorite high-heeled black leather boots on and a few of her signature accessories, including the Phoenix bracelet that Bridget got gotten her for her birthday three weeks ago. 

Franky caught Bridget's stare through the mirror.

"What? Is this okay?" 

Bridget leaned against the door jam. "God, you're beautiful." 

Franky just shook her head and started to put her makeup away, but not before Bridget caught a glimpse of the blush that had crept up Franky's neck. 

Just then, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. 

Bridget gave Franky a reassuring squeeze around her waist and kissed her cheek, before taking her hand so that they could answer the door together. Bridget noticed that Franky's palm felt a little clammy, and gave it one last squeeze as she opened the door. 

Pleasantries were exchanged, and soon enough the four of them were sitting around the large dining table enjoying the German Riesling that Mike had brought. 

After the group clinked their glasses together and enjoyed their first couple of sips, Shannon was the first to speak. 

"Well I for one am so glad we finally got to do this. I know I speak for Mike as well when I say that we're so happy to meet you, Franky. Bridget has told us only awesome things and it's very obvious that you have her completely smitten."

Bridget blushed and put her hand on Franky's knee, watching as Franky gulped her wine and nervously cleared her throat. Bridget could tell Franky was a bit uncomfortable; she wasn't used to random people complimenting her and saying such nice things unless they wanted something. 

Franky placed her glass back down on the table.  
"Well, the feeling is definitely mutual. And I'm happy to meet you guys too, Bridget's told me lots of stories so I feel like I already know ya." 

Mike chimed in, "Oh has she? I bet hasn't told you the best ones though. Hmm, let’s see… like the first time we all smoked in high school, and thought we were so cool, and Shan and I felt nothing but Bridge over here got totally high off her arse and wouldn't stop crying." 

Franky almost spit out her wine. 

"Ha! No, she skipped that one for some reason." 

Bridget rolled her eyes at Mike and turned to see Franky cocking her head and looking at her with an amused, open-mouthed smirk. 

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad." 

"Are you kidding? Bridge, you curled into a ball under the hammock in my parents' yard and said you couldn't stop crying because Oscar was staring at you and 'obviously judging'," Shannon piped. 

"Oscar was Shannon's golden retriever," Mike explained. 

Franky let out a full belly laugh and clapped her hands together.

"Oh that is too good. I would have killed to see this." 

Bridget groaned and covered her face with her right hand. Truthfully, she was more than happy to let Mike and Shannon relish in telling Franky a few embarrassing stories; Franky was starting to relax, clearing enjoying the conversation. And she was so gorgeous when she threw her head back and laughed like that, Bridget didn’t even give a damn that it was technically at her expense. 

The conversation flowed easily for the next half hour, until Franky announced that she's better go check on the food. 

When Franky was out of earshot, Shannon leaned into the center of the table, "She seems great, Bridge. And you told us she was gorgeous, but damn!" 

Bridget turned red and playfully hit Shannon on the shoulder. 

“Don’t ogle my girlfriend.”

Shannon ignored Bridget and continued," I hope we're not too much for her or that she feels like she has to be on her best behavior or something, though. But seriously, she's great. And she looks at you like you're the fucking sun in the sky- so first impression is definitely an A in my book, not that you need my approval." Shannon winked. 

Mike nodded in agreement, but the conversation halted when Franky starting walking back to the table. 

"Yeah it's all good in there, should be ready in a few." 

Fifteen minutes later, the food was on the table and being dished out. 

Mike was the first to take a bite, and groaned as if he had never eaten before in his life.

"Oh Jesus this is delicious. Bridget raved about your cooking but didn't say you belonged in a five star restaurant!" 

Bridget tensed and inwardly cringed. Bridget didn't know much about the reality show that Franky had been a part of, but Franky had explained that the "prize" had been a spot as head chef in one of the most prestigious restaurants in Melbourne. 

Mike obviously realized his gaff, because the next thing out of his mouth was "Shit, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just meant that the food is out of this world, that-" 

Franky cut him off, "don’t worry, it's no sweat. But yeah, for obvious reasons I think that ship has sailed." 

Shannon chimed, "their loss and our gain, because I second the sentiment that this is the fucking best chicken Marsala I've ever tasted in my life." 

The four continued to enjoy their meal and conversation flowed easily again, as Franky got to know Mike and Shannon better and visa versa. Bridget noted that her friends did a decent job of steering clear of sensitive subjects. They talked about Franky's courses, which jobs she had applied to, and how her birthday was. Franky, not surprisingly, asked for more dirt on Bridget in younger years, which the other two were more than happy to provide. Before long, Bridget glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was past 10 pm. 

Shannon and Mike offered to help Bridget clean up, as the three of them told Franky that she wasn't lifting a finger. Franky protested but eventually gave up, settling back in her seat and sipping the last of her wine. Shannon followed Bridget into the kitchen with an armful of dishes, leaving Mike and Franky by themselves. 

Mike started to clear the wine glasses off of the table.  
"Thanks again for having us, Franky. It was a really nice time. I hope Shan and I weren't too much of a pain in your arse." 

Franky smiled. "You guys are great, it's obvious why you've all stayed friends for so long."

"Yeah, because we have no time to make other friends, so we're stuck with each other," Mike joked. 

Franky laughed but then crossed her arms and bit her bottom lip. "Uh, no seriously- thanks for being so nice to me. I know you guys couldn't have been over the moon when Bridget told you she was dating an ex-con. I wouldn't blame you if you tried to talk her out of being with me." 

Mike put down the glasses in his hand and turned to Franky.  
"Look, Bridget is the most logical, level-headed person I know, and she also loves with her whole heart. She doesn't do anything half way, yeah? So when she told me that she was dating someone she previously counseled at Wentworth, it was a shock, for sure, but I also knew that this must be the real deal, and that you must be pretty awesome. So no, to answer your question, I didn't try to talk her out of her relationship with you. And, for the record, I was right to trust Bridge and assume that you're pretty great, eh? It's obvious how much you care for her. And she hasn't had this kind of happiness in a long time, so thank you. 

Franky was taken aback by Mike's candid honesty, but more than grateful to hear his words. She folded her arms clicked her tongue. 

"Ah, jeez. Thanks, that means a lot. And I do care about Bridget, more than I've ever cared about anyone in my entire life." 

Now Franky was startled by her own candid honesty, and immediately chalked it up to the wine and mood of the evening.

Mike just smiled and continued wiping up the table. 

***

Over in the kitchen, Bridget caught Shannon leaning against the sink giving her amused, satisfied look. 

"What?" 

"You're so in love, and I'm obsessed." 

Bridget's faced turned a shade of pink for what she thought was the hundredth time. 

"I'm serious, Bridgie. I've never seen you like this, or look at anyone the way you look at Franky." 

Bridget sighed, and knew there was no sense in even denying it. 

"I haven't told her yet."

"Told her what?" Shannon asked. 

"That I love her." Bridget paused for a second, and then continued. 

"It's complicated, Franky's had a lot of trauma in her life at the hands of people who were supposed to love her. She's been taught that the word means nothing. I don't want to scare her or force it if she's not ready. I was planning on waiting until she said it, but now... I don't know." 

Shannon wrapped Bridget in a hug. "You'll know when the time is right, I know you will. And if it's any consolation, that woman is so very obviously in love with you too." 

Bridget smiled again and felt her eyes nearly glisten over.

"Thanks, Shan."

"Anytime." 

***

At 10:30, Bridget finally closed the door behind her friends, turning around to lean against the doorknob and face Franky. 

Franky walked slowly to Bridget and placed her hands on Bridget's hips, where the fabric of her dress bunched up in just the right places. 

"So, how'd I do? Did I pass the test?" 

Bridget could tell that Franky knew the answer to that; she had some of her confidence back that was missing when the evening first began. 

"There was never a test, but if there was, then you would have passed with flying colors," Bridget said as she wrapped her arms around Franky's neck. 

Bridget continued, "But how are you, babe? That wasn't too much? I'm sorry the night went so late, time got away from me." 

"Narr, I had a good time, really. Your friends are great, Gidge." 

"Well they're your friends now too."

Bridget turned her neck upwards to reach Franky's lips. 

"And just so we're clear, you don't need anyone's approval, Franky, and I'm certainty not looking for anyone's approval concerning our relationship." 

"Not even the psych board's?" Franky quipped, moving her hand to Bridget's arse against the door. 

"Ugh, let's not talk about that. What I mean is that anyone important in my life will be able to clearly see how much you mean to me, and that we're good for each other and good to each other. And that's all they'll care about." 

Franky nodded and leaned her forehead against Bridget's. Bridget wasn't sure if Franky was convinced, but that was okay. She knew it would take time. 

Franky suddenly pulled back and looked at Bridget with wide eyes.

"This isn't your way of telling me your parents are flying in next weekend, right?" 

Bridget stifled her laughter, "god no." 

Franky let out an exaggerated breath. "Phew! I don't think I could do the best friends and the parents in the same week." 

"Would never subject you to that, babe." 

Bridget reached up to place another peck on Franky's lips.  
"Mm, I am wiped and really need to get out of this dress. Wanna help me?" 

Franky raised her eyebrows and gave Bridget that 1,000 watt smile that made her knees go weak.

"Always." 

***

Just before dozing off that night, Franky traced the outline of Bridget's hip and placed a gentle kiss on her exposed stomach.  
"Gidge?" 

"Yes, baby?"

"Thanks for introducing me to your friends."


	7. Three Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky's always convinced herself that love doesn't exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't make a "first" series without writing the "I love you"s. Apologies again, this is another emotional one. I promise they won't all be so heavy!  
> Also, I really didn't think that I would be able to get two chapters out a week, but writing these has been a bit of a stress reliever! So major thanks to everyone for continuing to read :)

_"No one's ever gonna love you, you hear?"_

_"Your dad left because of you! Because he doesn't love you!"_

_"If someone ever tells you that they love you, they're lying. Who could ever love you?"_

Franky woke with a start, gasping for air. The sheet was bunched around her feet at the end of the bed and her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Franky stole a glance to the other side; she was relieved to discover that Bridget's eyes were closed and her breathing still even. 

Franky laid on her back and placed her right hand over her heart, counting to three as she took a slow, deep breath in, and then exhaled. 

_1, 2, 3_

It was a breathing exercise that Bridget had taught her, and it always seemed to calm her after she woke up in a sweat in the middle of the night. Franky repeated the motions a few times before she extracted herself from the tangle of blankets and tiptoed to the bathroom down the hall, careful not to make too much noise. 

Franky turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face. As she blotted her skin dry with the nearest towel, she caught her own eyes in the mirror. Did she recognize the little girl in her dreams? Was that still her staring back in the mirror? Did she still believe those things that little girl did, that she would never be loved, that she didn't deserve it? 

She certainly did a few months ago. She hated the bitch that called herself her mother, but Franky grew up to believe that the woman had been right all along- Franky didn't deserve to be loved. How could she? She wasn't a good person and had done so many horrible things to people who didn’t deserve them.

Franky closed her eyes, as her mind was flooded with the memory of the woman sound asleep down the hall, telling her otherwise. 

_"You're a good person, Franky."_

_"I'm not a good person!"_

_"Yes you are."_

_“No! Because if I saw her, I’d cut her throat. So how the hell does that make me good?”_

_“It makes you angry.”_

_“I’d fuckin’ kill her!”_

_“I don’t believe it, you’re not a murderer.”_

_“You don’t know shit!”_

_“I know you’re not a killer.”_

_“Yes I am!”_

_“Yeah, well who have you killed?”_

_“I fucking killed Meg Jackson!”_

Franky remembered the flood of relief that came with her confession, but it wasn’t enough to stop the intense despair as her heart shattered into a million pieces. She vaguely remembered beginning to hyperventilate on the ground, clutching at her waist as if that would keep her heart from falling out of her chest. She assumed she had destroyed any chance of a future relationship with Bridget, whatever that would entail. 

“ _So you still think I’m a good person, do ya?”_

_“I think you need to absorb what’s happened today. You’ve started to trust. It’s a big step.”_

_“Came at a price though, hey?”_

But miracles of miracles, somehow Bridget still believed that Franky was a good person. She told Franky that every day since they'd been together- sometimes with those exact words, sometimes in her actions. Through Bridget's support, Franky had started to believe it too, and it propelled Franky to want to better herself- to do better, to be better, and believe that she deserved better. 

But love? Franky still wasn't sure if she deserved that, or deserved to love someone. Especially not someone as good as Bridget. 

Between the time that her father left when she was ten years old, to the time around when she met Bridget, Franky told herself that real love didn't even exist. Eventually she started to truly believe it. It was easier than thinking that other people got to have this elusive thing- this apparently wonderful experience that came with the benefits of safety and happiness and a home. But Franky was left in the dark. She convinced herself that anyone who claimed to love her would just end up using her or leaving. That's what she had been taught her entire life, why should she believe anything different? 

But Bridget hadn't used her, or left. 

She knew Bridget loved her, not only through her actions but because she had told her. 

After Franky was paroled, it hadn't taken her long to learn that Bridget had some really fucking adorable quirks, and one of them was talking in her sleep. On nights that Franky spent lying awake, she often found herself privy to Bridget's sleep-induced thoughts. Mostly they were just mumbled words strung together that didn't really make sense, but sometimes they weren't. 

_"I love you, Franky."_

_"I'm so in love with you, Franky."_

Franky finally exited the bathroom and crawled back into bed, turning her body inwards towards Bridget. Bridget had evidently rolled over at some point while she was gone; her face was buried into the side of Franky's pillow and her arm laid outstretched over the spot where she usually found Franky's waist. Franky lifted Bridget's arm gently and scooted under it. 

Franky sighed and brushed some pieces of hair out of Bridget's eye. She let her fingers trail down the length of Bridget's cheek to her neck, and buried her face into the crook between her neck and shoulder. 

"I love you, too, Gidge," Franky whispered into Bridget's body, almost too softly to even hear her own words, before she dozed off and joined Bridget in dreamland. 

 ***

Five nights after Franky whispered into Bridget's sleeping form, she found herself lying in a similar position, but under very different circumstances. For starters, they were both very much awake. They were both also very naked; their breasts pressed together, their legs and thighs tangled, covered in sweat and coated in evidence of their prior arousal. Franky's head had assumed its usual position in the crook of Bridget's neck. 

Franky guessed that they had been lying like that for at least twenty minutes before Bridget spoke, her voice thick with emotion, her lips pressed against Franky's forehead. 

"I love you, Franky. I love you so much." 

There it was. No preamble, no warning. And Bridget definitely wasn't sleeping this time. 

Franky felt like the air had suddenly been taken out of her lungs, as if someone had taken a pin and popped them like a balloon. And then, like a dam had been broken, her eyes flooded with tears. 

"I know," she managed to croak out. She wanted to say more, desperately wanted to echo the words back. 

She felt Bridget untangle their bodies and lift Franky's head, placing her hands gently on both cheeks, so that Franky had no choice but to look Bridget in the eye. 

"I love you, Franky," Bridget repeated, but louder and stronger this time. 

"You deserve to be loved, you are loved, and you will be loved. Please don't answer if you feel like you're not ready yet. But I just really needed you to know. And I'll keep telling you every day from now on, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving." 

Franky wasn't sure how Bridget knew exactly what she needed, or that this was the exact right time to tell her, but of course she did. And fuck it, she thought. _I am worthy._

Bridget wiped Franky's tears with the pads of her thumbs, and brought her forehead to her lips. 

Franky wrapped her arms around Bridget's neck, resisting the urge to again bury her head there. 

"Can you say it one more time?" Franky whispered. 

Bridget smiled as a single tear broke and fell down her cheek. 

"I love you. I'm so in love with you, baby." 

Franky took a deep, shaky breath. 

"I love you too, Bridget." 


	8. Holiday (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget surprises Franky with an impromptu road trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended up getting kind of long, so I split it up. This is part one of their holiday, in Bridget's POV, and the second part (should be able to post tomorrow!) will be from Franky's POV. 
> 
> Thanks to suchterriblesilence for the "first road trip" prompt (sorry there's not actually much of them on the road!) and Mickey66 for the idea that Franky is a morning person.
> 
> One last thing- I'm from New York, so I did some research surrounding the geographic stuff, but I apologize if something is off!

Bridget heaved a sigh and pressed her fingers to her temple, as she tried to get through the last of the admissions files for the incoming inmates. It was Sunday afternoon and there were a million things she’d rather be doing, like enjoying this beautiful day with her girlfriend. Her wandering thoughts convinced her that at the very least, it was time for a coffee break. She rose from her spot at the kitchen table and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. She knew Franky could use the coffee too; she had been holed up in the study for three hours now, cramming for her second Administrative Law exam.

As the coffee maker roared to life, Franky’s voice traveled into the kitchen.

“Gidge, can I use your laptop? Mine’s about to die and I don’t remember where I put the fucking charger.”

“Yeah sure, babe,” Bridget yelled back. “I’m bringing you a cuppa, too.”

Bridget smiled as she heard Franky groan, “you’re a bloody saint, Gidge.”

Just as Bridget was about to make her way to the study, coffee in hand, Franky rounded the corner, clutching Bridget’s open laptop with her brow furrowed.

“What’s this?” Franky asked as she pointed to the screen.

Bridget saw what Franky was pointing to. _Shit._ She could have sworn she closed that tab.

“Ya going on holiday?”

On the screen was a webpage for a hotel package in Orange, New South Wales, about three hours outside of Sydney. Shannon had forwarded it to her a few days prior; some of Bridget’s old high school mates were organizing a reunion of sorts, and had picked out a fancy hotel next to a winery in Orange for the occasion.

During a phone chat earlier in the week, Shannon begged Bridget to go with her.

_“Oh come on, Bridge, I so need a break and this is the perfect excuse!”_

_“Shan, I can’t. I’m overloaded at work and I don’t even know if I could get the couple days off on this short notice.”_

Bridget had hoped that Shannon would drop it, but she wasn’t that lucky.

_“Bridget that is bullshit! You can work on the plane, and Wentworth will survive without you for a bit, I promise.”_

_“Shannon, everyone’s bringing their partners to this thing, yeah? Well I can’t bring mine and what I am going to tell people, hmm? I don’t want to lie and I just don’t want to deal with it. And frankly, I don’t want to sit around with all of our old rich, snobby high school friends when I could be enjoying the weekend with Franky, who would be left here alone if I went, and not because she chose to, but because she can’t fucking travel out of Victoria for another five months.”_

Shannon didn’t protest after that, and told Bridget that she would go for the both of them and text her a play-by-play of all the gossip and let her know if any of their old obnoxious guy friends had gotten fat and ugly.

That made Bridget laugh, and she thanked Shannon again for being such a wonderful friend.

That was the last she thought of it, until now.

“No, I’m not going on holiday,” she told Franky. Some people I knew from school are hosting a reunion, and that’s where it is, since a lot of them still live outside of Sydney. It’s next weekend. I’m not going though. Too much to do, and it’s not like I’m itching to spend a whole weekend with people I barely know anymore either.”

Bridget knew she was rambling, trying to make as light of the situation as possible, hoping that Franky would accept her answer.

Bridget tried to change the subject, “Here’s your cuppa. How’s studying going? You’re going to ace this exam tomorrow, baby, I know it.”

But Franky’s brow was still furrowed as she stared blankly at the hotel’s webpage, still holding the laptop.

“If your friends invited you to this thing this time last year, would you have gone?”

Bridget put the cups back down on the counter and paused.

Franky pressed, “be honest with me, no bullshit.”

Bridget sighed. “Yes, probably,” she admitted.

Franky finally put the computer down on the counter and crossed her arms over chest.

“Wonderful,” she said under her breath as she bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head.

Bridget recognized the look that had suddenly deflated all of Franky’s features. The look that said _‘I’m a fuck-up and I’ve ruined something else, surprise, surprise.’_

Bridget didn’t want to go down this road, and tried to stop Franky from spiraling before it was too late.

“Franky, look, I’m not lying when I say that I don’t want to go. I’m making that choice, no one else. We’ve barely gotten to see each other this week, we’ve been so busy and I would much rather be here with you next weekend.”

“Yeah but the fact is that I couldn’t go with ya even if you did want to go, and you don’t want to leave me here feeling bad. Right? Don’t lie to me, Gidge. It’s just another reminder that I’m not free, not really. And just because I’m not free doesn’t mean that you have to be chained down too.”

Bridget could see the tears starting to form in Franky’s eyes. She closed the space between them and took her hand.

“Franky, that’s not the case at all. I don’t feel chained, my god. Do you really think that?”

Franky looked away and sniffled. “No.”

Bridget knew that Franky’s gears were turning in her head a mile a minute, and her simple answer was just an indication that she had no interest in having this conversation right now.

“I need a break from studying. I’m gonna go for a run.” Franky retracted her hand from Bridget’s and was down the hallway before Bridget had a chance to respond. She didn’t go after her. She knew that Franky needed some time to herself and that the run would help her cool off.

She slouched back down at the kitchen table, her fingers again finding their place at her temples. She hated that Franky felt like this, like she was still trapped and in some ways, still locked away in prison, under someone else’s control. Bridget knew these feelings were anything but uncommon among parolees. She had counseled countless women before who were facing the same struggles, and she lent a compassionate ear and provided multiple resources to help them cope.

But this was different. Franky wasn’t just another one of Bridget’s clients; she was her girlfriend. Bridget loved Franky in a way she had never loved anyone else, and she would give anything to ease her pain.

Bridget took a swig of the coffee that had now gone cold, and stared out the window, thinking of Franky jogging alongside the ocean.

Bridget’s eyes went wide as an idea popped into her head. _Oh my god, why didn’t I think of this before?_

She quickly reopened her laptop and typed out a new Google search: “Beach resorts, Victoria, AUS, ocean view”

***

The next weekend, Bridget climbed on top of a sleeping Franky, and pressed light kisses from her neck down to her arm.

“Wake up, sleepy head.” Bridget moved her mouth to Franky’s cheek as she stirred.

“Gidget- what, why?” Franky grunted, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Because.” Bridget kissed her mouth. “You have to pack.”

“I have to what?” Franky looked at the clock on the nightstand that read 7:00.

“Gidge, what the hell? Do you know that it’s seven on a Saturday morning? You normally don’t roll out of bed until nine after I drag ya. Are you actually sleeping right now? You do know you talk in your sleep, right?”

Bridget chuckled. Franky had a fair point. Bridget loved to sleep, and savored her extra hours on the weekends. She was not a morning person- she usually hit the snooze button for twenty minutes after her alarm went off, and was groggy until she downed her morning cuppa. Franky, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She was usually alert the second after she opened her eyes, and never slept past eight. The set schedule in Wentworth, accompanied with the constant fear of someone coming in to shiv you in the middle of the night would do that.

“Yes, I’m awake, and yes, I know what time it is.”

Franky seemed to suddenly remember what Bridget had told her.

“Wait, what did you say before, I have to pack? I know I couldn’t have heard ya right, on account of I can’t actually go anywhere that would require packing.”

Bridget hummed. “That’s not true.”

Bridget reached behind her and handed the previously concealed piece of paper to Franky. She watched as Franky’s eyes squinted in confusion, and then went wide.

The paper listed details of a hotel accommodation for Cape Schanck Resort on the Mornington Peninsula. Check in was listed at 2:00 for that day, while the checkout date wasn’t until the following Tuesday.

“Gidge, what is this?”

“We’re going on a little holiday, babe,” Bridget said with a glint in her eye. “Only if you want, of course. But I wanted to surprise you. Since you have off from class on Monday and Tuesday, I thought now would be a perfect time. And I cleared the time off with Vera.”

Bridget could tell Franky was still putting the pieces together, so she continued, unable to contain the smile that had reached her eyes.

“The resort is on Mornington Peninsula- the beach is absolutely gorgeous, and there’s lots to do- cute villages, wineries, lots of restaurants. It’s about a two-hour drive, but still well within Victoria’s lines.”

Bridget paused as she let Franky digest her words. She seemed to be reading the words on the paper she was still gripping over and over. Finally, Franky looked up at Bridget, cocking her head, her eyes still wide.

“For, real, Gidge?”

“For real, for real, baby. And we’ll be far enough away that the chances of anyone seeing us together who shouldn’t will be slim to none.”

Franky threw her bare arms around Bridget’s neck and crushed her lips in a kiss, causing them both to fall backwards back onto the bed.

***

Two and a half hours later Bridget’s car was completely loaded up. Bridget climbed into the driver’s seat and waited for Franky, using the time to double check their itineraries. Franky ran out of the house a minute later, clutching a small black shopping bag that she threw into her main duffle in the backseat.

“Sorry, forgot something,” Franky said as she climbed into the passenger seat.

“What’s that?”

Franky clicked her tongue and winked at Bridget, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

**

They spent the first hour of the trip mostly singing along to a playlist that Franky had created for Bridget a while back. It had some of Franky’s favorite songs on it, as well as songs that reminded her of Bridget. Bridget smiled, remembering the first time Franky had presented it to her.

“ _In prison, there’s too much noise. Someone’s always crying, yelling, or fucking right next to you. When I couldn’t take it, I drowned out the noise a lot with music.”_

Bridget was shaken from her thoughts when Franky squeezed her hand.

“Have you been to this place before?”

“To the peninsula, yes, a few times, but not this particular resort.”

Franky nodded, and then began to laugh.

“Bridget glanced sideways at Franky, “What’s so funny?”

“Ah, nothing Gidge, nothin’. It’s just that I was thinking, maybe I did actually die in that fire, eh? And this is just some crazy dream going on in my brain all this time, because come on- Franky Doyle sitting passenger as her hot as fuck girlfriend drives them to a fancy ass resort on the peninsula? Doesn’t sound like reality to me.”

Bridget rubbed the tops of her fingers along Franky’s hand and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Despite Franky’s light tone, Bridget knew this was something Franky often wrestled with- that this life she found herself living wasn’t real, and it was going to be ripped from her at any moment.

“This is your life, baby. And no one’s going to take it away from you.”

Franky brought Bridget’s hand to her lips, and then turned her head to look out the open window. She closed her eyes as the wind whipped her hair around her face, and Bridget turned her full attention back to the road.

***

A little over an hour later Bridget drove the car up the elongated driveway to the front of the hotel.

“Shit, this place is gorgeous,” Franky breathed. The two-story hotel covered multiple acres of land and overlooked the Bass Strait and Western Port Bay, and beautiful green brush spanned for miles extending from the resort. The ceilings of the hotel were high and the windows were large and picturesque.

Bridget nodded in agreement. It really was beautiful, and she was excited for her and Franky to explore the rest of the resort.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing in front of the door to their room, and Bridget handed Franky the swipe card.

“You do the honors.”

Franky took the key and opened the door to a spacious suite. There was a small hallway in the front that housed the bathroom to the left and a large closet to the right. The hallway opened up to a large room with a king-sized bed situated in the center of the left-most wall. Across from the bed on the right side of the room had a TV mounted on top of a beautiful stone-cut fireplace. The room’s décor was modern, the light walls lined with dark, black, wood, to match the floor in the hallway.

From the look on Franky’s face, Bridget was glad that she splurged on the deluxe room.

Franky gasped. “Is that a balcony?”

She dropped her bag and ran to open the large, glass door.

“Oh my god, Gidge, you have to see this view! We’re right over the ocean.”

Bridget followed her out and wrapped her arms around her waist, taking in the sight. She sighed contently and rested her chin on Franky’s shoulder and tried to etch this memory into her brain forever.

The women decided to explore the beach for a few hours before they had to get ready for dinner. They donned their suits, but not before Franky made a comment about having to get ready in the bathroom or she “wouldn’t be able to resist jumping Bridget’s bones and wearing that fucking gorgeous bed out within the first hour”. Bridget was more than looking forward to that activity, too. 

The beach was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen, but Bridget found that she had a hard time keeping her eyes off of Franky. She was wearing a simple black string bikini, exposing all of her tattoos. Her makeup had washed off from diving into the water and her dark, wet hair was tied into a messy bun on the top of her head. As Franky lay on her stomach on the sand, her head in her hands looking out onto the water, Bridget felt her breath catch.

Franky felt Bridget’s stare. “What, do I have sand on my arse?”

Bridget held her gaze and simply shook her head, musing that Franky truly had no idea how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

***

Later that night, Bridget was putting the last touches of her makeup on when she heard the bathroom door open. She turned around and saw Franky reenter the room, wearing a sheer, sleeveless black dress. It fell to her knees and bunched at her waist. It had a high collar that accentuated her neckline and shoulders, and showed off the gorgeous, bright tattoos on her arms.

Bridget closed her jaw that she didn’t realize had dropped, and walked to Franky.

“Wow. You look so beautiful, baby.”

Franky blushed. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she averted her eyes.

“It looks okay? I went shopping a few days ago. I haven’t worn a dress in years.”

“It looks more than okay, it looks amazing on you. In fact-" Bridget lowered her voice as her lips made her way to a sensitive spot on Franky’s neck.

“If we don’t leave for dinner right now, we’re not going to make it, and that gorgeous dress will only be on your body for the next two minutes.”

Franky leaned back, escaping the beautiful torture Bridget was descending onto her neck, and let out a laugh.

“Oh, is that right, Ms. Westfall?”

“That’s right.”

“Well we better leave then, because I want to enjoy being able to show you off and kiss and touch you in public for bloody once in our lives.”

Franky reached around Bridget and cupped her arse.

“But afterwards, you better believe that we are getting acquainted with that bed. For hours.”

With that, Franky let go of Bridget and walked to the door, leaving Bridget wondering how in the world she was going to make it through dinner.


	9. Holiday (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Explicit for a little smut towards the end. (Which I haven't written in a while, so if should quit while I'm ahead please let me know!)

Franky took Bridget’s hand as they exited their hotel room, feeling very pleased about the effect she just had on her gorgeous girlfriend. She was happy that Bridget seemed to like her dress; she hadn’t worn one in forever. She didn't have a reason to, and they kind of clashed with the tough-girl image she was trying to project. But the top layers of the strong armor she wore were slowly but surely chipping away, and something made her buy the dress when she saw it in the store a few days ago. And now, seeing nothing but adoration and lust in Bridget’s eyes as they walked down to dinner, she was damn glad she did.

Franky still couldn’t believe they were here, at this beautiful beach, and that they could walk around like a normal couple, without worrying about someone they knew seeing and reporting them. It wasn’t much of a problem for Franky unless it was reported that she was living with Bridget, therefore violating her parole. But Bridget could get in a shit-ton of trouble with the Board of Psychology just for being spotted on a date with Franky, as any romantic or sexual conduct with patients, even former ones, violated the code of ethics. Their situation was especially precarious given that Franky was technically under Bridget’s care fairly recently. Franky worried about Bridget’s career. She couldn’t live with herself if she lost her job yet again, but Bridget swore up and down that this is what she wanted. Franky was relieved to say the least; she didn’t foresee herself wanting to give Bridget up any time soon. Or ever.

The restaurant, not surprisingly, was stunning. They were seated in a spacious booth, and reveled in the feeling of getting to pash over the table or simply grab each other’s hands whenever they damn felt like it.

 _For fuck's sake_ , Franky thought. _I’m like a fucking schoolgirl on her first date._

Franky used to roll her eyes at couples on these kind of dates, so fucking absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice anything else around them. But that was mostly because Franky never thought she would get the chance to have that for herself. And yet here she was.

“Gidge? Thank you for this. For all of it. I’ve never been to a beach this beautiful before, hell I’ve never even been to a real resort before. So thank you for taking me here, you are so fucking amazing and the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met in my life.” 

Franky paused and took a deep breath.

“And I know I was a total bitch last weekend when I got all pissy after finding out about your friends’ reunion. I didn’t mean to. It’s just, sometimes, I’m scared your gonna wake up one day and not know what the hell you’re doing living with an ex-criminal, who’s suddenly taken over your life and flipped it the fuck upside down."

Franky looked up towards the ceiling in an attempt to stop her forming tears from falling, and blew out a sigh of raspberries.

“I know it’s stupid but I- I can’t help it.”

Bridget put down her fork and scooted out of her side of the booth and motioned for Franky to make room. She slid in next to her and took her into her arms.

“Franky, do you even know how amazing you are?”

Franky scoffed.

“Franky, look at me. I’m serious. Do you know how lucky I feel to be with you? You are the strongest, most determined, smartest woman I have ever met in my life. And underneath that determination and strength, you have this unmatched ability to empathize with others and show compassion. That’s why I fell in love with you.”

Franky leaned into Bridget.

“I love ya, Gidge.”

“I love you too, baby.”

***

An hour later the women walked hand in hand back to the hotel, completely satiated from their delicious dinner. They had stayed on Franky’s side of the booth for the remainder of the meal; after the check was paid, Franky felt Bridget slide a hand up over her thigh and under the thin material of her dress, and fuck, that was a signal to get a move-on if Franky ever knew one. 

As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Franky grabbed Bridget’s wrists and pushed her in and up against the wall, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

The elevator doors shut and Franky released Bridget’s lower lip with an audible popping sound.

“Well good thing the elevator was empty,” Bridget chuckled lightly and then closed her eyes, feeling Franky’s lips move to her neck.

“Gidge, have I ever told you about my elevator fantasy? I’ve always wanted to make-out with someone in one.”

Bridget opened her eyes and looked around the small space.

“What are you looking for?”

“A camera. I don’t see one. You wanna take that fantasy of yours a little further?”

God, Franky loved that glint in Bridget’s eye that she had gotten to witness so many times since being released from Wentworth. 

Bridget continued speaking as she moved her hand back down to the hem of Franky’s dress.

“Because, have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in this dress? And while I’m dying to get you out of it, I wouldn’t mind leaving you in it for a little while longer.”

Bridget reached over Franky's shoulder and pushed the ‘STOP’ button, bringing the elevator to a halt.

“You minx,” Franky breathed, her eyes growing dark and her lower body humming with arousal.

Bridget flipped them around so that she had Franky pinned against the wall, her body holding Franky in place while she began to suck at a particularly sensitive spot under her ear.

Franky groaned and closed her eyes, submitting to Bridget. Sex with Bridget was unlike anything Franky had ever experienced. Franky had always enjoyed sex; she liked being in control and she liked the release that it came with, allowing an escape even just for a few minutes. But with Bridget, sex was a whole new experience. When Bridget touched her, her body felt like it was on fire. When Bridget made her come, she yelled out and whimpered in such a way that her own voice startled her. And never before Bridget had she felt safe enough to let another woman be in control.

Franky felt another pulse of arousal as Bridget moved her tongue down her neck, and she was certain she was already soaked.

Bridget continued to tease her, playing with the hem of Franky’s dress.

“Gidge, please.”

That was another thing Franky had never done before Bridget came along- beg.

“Please, what, baby?” Bridget purred in her ear.

“Fuck me.”

That was all the direction Bridget needed as she moved her hand under the dress, and rested it on Franky’s now throbbing sex over top her matching sheer, black underwear.

Bridget hummed as she started to rub Franky with two fingers against the constraining material.

Franky moaned as she tried to grind herself into Bridget’s fingers, feeling another gush of arousal coat her underwear. Her body suddenly felt heavy and her head collapsed into the crook of Bridget’s neck.

“More,” Franky breathed.

“Where, Franky?”

“Inside me, Bridget, Jesus Fucking Christ.”

Bridget moved the hand that was resting on Franky’s neck to her leg, gently nudging Franky to spread her legs wider. Franky followed the direction and immediately felt Bridget pull her underwear to the side and slide a single finger up her slit and teased her opening.

“Ah! Fuck, Bridget, yes!”

“You’re so wet, baby. God, you’re dripping.”

Franky groaned into Bridget’s neck, unable to form a sentence. God, the things this woman did to her.

Bridget continued to hold Franky tightly against her as she finally buried two fingers inside of Franky.

“Oh!” Franky cried out, throwing her head back against the cold marble wall of the elevator.

Bridget continued to pump her fingers in and out, hitting all the spots against Franky’s inner walls that she knew made her come undone. After a minute, Bridget added a third finger, swiping Franky’s clit along the way.

Franky whimpered and dug her fingernails into Bridget’s shoulder, a sign that Bridget knew meant she was close.

“That’s it, baby, come for me.”

Bridget buried her fingers in Franky one last time, and pressed her thumb against her swollen bud. Franky screamed, her muscles tightening around Bridget’s fingers. With one more swipe of Bridget’s thumb, Franky saw white behind her eyes and she came, hard, her head falling back into Bridget’s neck, muffling her cries.

Bridget supported Franky’s body as she helped her ride out the last waves of her orgasm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Bridget breathed as she placed a kiss on Franky’s parted lips, slowly sliding her fingers out of her and pulling Franky’s dress back down.

Franky groaned as she felt the last gush of arousal drip out of her, following Bridget’s fingers.

Just as Franky caught her breath, a voice came over the speaker, causing both women to jump.

“Is anyone in the elevator? Are you in need of assistance?”

Franky attempted to stifle her laugh, covering her face with her hands.

Bridget’s face was bright red as she answered, “uh, hi! No, everything is fine, must have pressed the ‘STOP’ by accident." She reached over and pressed the button again, causing the elevator to whirl to life.

Franky stumbled with Bridget into their room, still laughing.

“He couldn’t see us, Gidge, it’s fine!”

Bridget looked at Franky with an amused, embarrassed expression on her face and just shook her head.

“Thanks for making that fantasy more than a reality. You really outdid yourself,” Franky said as she pulled Bridget to her body and started walking her backwards, until Bridget’s legs hit the bed.

“Let me show you how thankful I am,” she whispered as she pushed Bridget down onto the soft plush and covered her body with her own.

***

Two hours later, Franky felt Bridget’s breathing even out and looked up and smiled at her sleeping form. She pulled the covers up and tucked her in, and laid her head back down on Bridget’s chest. Franky fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing outside of the open window, and felt truly free.


	10. Acknowledging your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While tired and stressed after each of their long days, Franky and Bridget have their first real argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this is not a Holiday PT 3... BUT Chapter 11 will be very smutty and involve a certain someone wearing someone else's favorite pair of underwear, so hopefully that will make up for it- stay tuned ;)
> 
> As always, thank you SO much for your feedback- much appreciated!!

Franky huffed and slammed her laptop closed. She only read the first line of the latest rejection email to come through, but she didn't need to read any further.

_Dear Francesca,_

_We regret to inform you that although you presented as a strong candidate, our firm has decided to go in a different direction._

And what direction would that be, she wondered? One that didn't involve hiring a convicted violent felon, that's what. 

Franky closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the overstuffed couch cushion. She was tired. She desperately wished she were back on the beach, soaking up the sun with Bridget lying next to her. Or in the elevator, with Bridget pressed against her. Or in the hot tub, with Bridget on top of her. 

Franky's thoughts were moving into deliciously dangerous territory so she was relieved when she heard the front door open. 

"Hi, babe," Bridget called. Her voice sounded as weary as Franky felt. 

Franky rose to meet her in the kitchen as Bridget threw her bags on the table and immediately grabbed the half-empty wine bottle from the fridge. 

"Rough day?" 

"You could say that. Another lockdown." 

Bridget uncorked the bottle and poured some Pinot into the glass she just retrieved from the cabinet. 

"Lucy Gambaro and her gang attacked one of the new inmates. The reasoning is still unclear, of course." 

Franky felt bile rise in the back of her throat at Bridget's mention of Juice, her brain involuntarily flashing to a memory of kneeling down on the disgusting, hard, tile floor as Juice looked down and flicked her tongue at her. She tried to refocus on what Bridget was saying; if the memory went any further there would surely be vomit all over the kitchen counter in about five seconds. 

Bridget turned around and placed the wine back on bottom shelf in the fridge, unaware that Franky's cheeks had just drained of their previously pink color. 

"I'll tell you what, I can't wait for Bea to get back from Walford next week. There's been so many changes lately, and without someone the women feel they can turn to... well. It's getting bad." 

Franky nodded in agreement absentmindedly. 

"Anyway, I sat in my office for thirty-five minutes, and once the alarm stopped sounding off, I realized I couldn't hear anything coming from the hallways. I mean, it was dead silent. So I opened the door and walked down the hall, and I'm glad I did because-"

Franky's eyes suddenly shot darts over to Bridget. 

"You did what?" 

"I'm getting to it," Bridget answered. "It turned out they needed me at medical, and luckily I ran into Linda Myles-"

"No, before that. You said you left your office by yourself and walked down the hallway. Why the fuck would you do that?" 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Franky regretted the harshness of her tone. Bridget was clearly startled and confused by Franky's reaction. 

But then Bridget looked at Franky like that was the most absurd question to ask her, and Franky felt her blood pressure rise out of frustration. Did Bridget really not see the danger she put herself in? Franky launched into a tirade before she could stop herself. 

"What if it turned into a riot? What if you ran into Juice's crew in the hallway alone? Do you even realize what could have happened to you? You could have been shivved, ganged, killed, for fuck's sake! Juice and her pig boys don't give a fuck who they hurt, they do it for fun! And they would have eyed you up like a prize of bloody meat! Or any number of things could have happened, even if it was an accident! I wouldn't think I'd have to remind you of that!" 

Bridget took a deep breath and put both of her hands up so that her palms were facing Franky. 

"Franky, calm down." 

Franky's memory flashed again to her last few months in Wentworth, to the last time Bridget told her to calm down in the prison library.

“ _Hey! Hey, hey! Calm down!_

_“I’m not feeling calm right now!”_

"Don't tell me to calm down when you just told me that you knowingly put yourself in harm's way and don't seem to give a flying fuck!"

This time Bridget took the bait. 

"Franky, do you think I can't handle myself? That I don't know what I'm doing? I've been working in corrections for-"

"Twenty years, I know!" Franky threw her arms up and rolled her eyes. 

"I don't care how long you've been working in prisons, it doesn't change the fact that you have no protection whatsoever- you're completely vulnerable in a situation like that and I don't care that most of the women respect you, either. You could be collateral damage in a second!" 

_Just like Meg Jackson_ , Franky thought silently. 

Franky knew her voice had risen at least three octaves and she could feel her hands shaking. 

Bridget put one hand on her hip and the other against her forehead. Franky noticed the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. 

"Fucking hell, Franky. I can't do this right now. And if you're just going to stand there screaming at me, berating me like a fucking child I'm going to leave this room." 

Franky scoffed and crossed her arms, turning her head to the side. No, that's not what she wanted. The opposite of what she wanted. But why didn't Bridget get it? Why didn't she understand why Franky was so upset? 

But Franky didn't take a breath and apologize and ask those questions calmly, like she knew she should.

"Fine, go, then!" Franky flung her arms in the air and gestured towards the bedroom. 

"Fine."

Bridget took her wine and walked to the bedroom and shut the door behind her, and just like that Franky was alone again. 

Franky slumped down at the kitchen table and wondered what the hell just happened. She was immediately wracked with regret and guilt. 

How could she let herself get so out of control so quickly? She jumped down Bridget's throat before she had a chance to explain herself, and made it seem like she thought Bridget wasn't competent enough to keep herself safe at her own workplace. 

Franky groaned as she rubbed her tired eyes. She wanted to go to Bridget, to apologize and ask her to forgive her, and then crawl into bed in Bridget's arms and forget this even happened. But she wondered if Bridget even wanted to see her face at the moment. 

Franky replayed what Bridget said over in her head. Of course she knew that Bridget could handle herself. Of course she knew that Bridget was more than capable, but it didn't stop Franky from worrying about her being in that hellhole every single day. Franky wasn't used to worrying about someone- wondering if they were feeling okay, if they were having a good day. If they would make it home safe at night. Did everyone feel this way about their partner? Worry this much? She didn't know how to deal with it. 

_Clearly_ , she thought, cringing at the memory of the hurt, defeated look in Bridget's eyes just a moment ago. 

After five minutes of rubbing her eyes and bouncing her knee under the table, Franky decided to at least make her energy useful; she fired up the stove and took out the ingredients for her shrimp and veggie stir-fry- one of Bridget's favorites. 

 

Twenty-five minutes later Franky was pouring the last of the sauce onto the stir-fry when Bridget meandered into the kitchen. She was wearing her favorite old, oversized t-shirt from uni that reached just to top of her thighs. Her hair was tied in a loose high ponytail and her face was clear of makeup. She looked fucking cute as hell. 

"Mmm, something smells good." 

Franky tentatively met Bridget's eyes and was overcome with relief to see only the usual softness and love she always did. 

"Gidge, I'm so-" 

"Shh, I know. Me too. Can we talk about it after dinner though? I'm famished and exhausted, and more than anything I just want to sit down and enjoy a meal with you."

Franky felt an emotional tightness creep up her throat. 

"Yeah, of course." 

Bridget smiled at Franky and her heart turned over in her chest when she saw the little crinkle in the corner of Bridget's eye that she loved so much. 

They sat down to dinner in a comfortable silence, both of their stomachs rumbling. Bridget cleared most of the food off her plate within ten minutes.

"Delicious as always, babe. Thank you for making dinner." 

"No sweat." Franky cleared her throat. 

"I applied for another six jobs today, but got three rejection emails from the ones I applied to last week."

Bridget shook her head. "Well, their loss. They don't know what they're missing out on. The right one will come along soon enough, I promise." 

Franky heaved a sigh. That was easy for Bridget to say. 

"I don't know, Gidge." 

"No? Well I do. I do know. Because you're smarter and have more intuition and drive than half of the nitwits these networks and firms have working for them."

Bridget put down her fork and looked at Franky with such sincerity and emotion in those beautiful blue eyes that Franky had to look away. It was too intense, and Franky thought she didn't deserve to be shown this much kindness after she screamed her head off at Bridget not even an hour ago.

Franky pushed a bit of shrimp and broccoli around on her plate with her fork. 

"I had just opened that third rejection right before you walked in," she mumbled.

"So neither of us were really in our best emotional states, huh?" 

Bridget reached across the table and rested her fingers on Franky's forearm. 

"I'm sorry, Franky, for making it seem like I was so blasé about putting myself in danger today. You're absolutely right. I shouldn't have walked out of my office during the lockdown, and especially not all the way down the hall by myself. I didn't know what I could be walking into." 

Franky vigorously shook her head and looked Bridget in the eye. 

"No, stop, Gidge. I'm sorry. The way I reacted was unacceptable, and I trust you- I really, really do. So if you think that-"

Bridget cut her off. 

"Yeah, but if something were to happen to me, god forbid, it's not just myself I have to worry about anymore, is it? I've been used to being on my own for a while now, and it's not just me I'm hurting if I put myself in danger." 

Bridget took a breath.

"And I know you have horrible images in your head of what exactly could happen to me in there, and I have to be more than mindful of that, Franky. That's on me. I can't just come home and unload something like this on you, I don't know what I was thinking. I clearly wasn't. And I'm so sorry."

"I can't stop worrying about you," Franky blurted out before she could stop the words.  

She felt her knee starting to bounce again and she laced her fingers together in front of her plate. 

"I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? You're the goddamn smartest and most qualified person in that shit-hole and I know that. But without fail, every day I have this incessant urge to pick up the phone and hear your voice, just to make sure you're okay." 

Franky felt the tightness in her throat again. 

"I had a dream last week that you were shivved in the throat. And I was standing right there, but I couldn't get to ya, no matter how hard I tried. What the fuck is wrong with me, Gidge?"

Her voice cracked and Franky didn't trust herself to keep talking without turning into a total blubbering mess. Franky couldn't believe how much she had cried since being out of Wentworth. She was so god damn emotional all the time after turning every hint of vulnerability into only anger for the last twenty-five years.  

Bridget linked her hands with Franky's over the table. 

"There is nothing wrong with you, baby." 

"I feel weak." 

"You are anything but weak. You're acknowledging your fears. And that makes you so strong, Franky." 

Bridget got up from the table and kneeled in front of Franky. 

"But I have to do my part, too. I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep myself safe. I won't knowingly go walking into anything dangerous again, I promise. And what if we have a phone check-in with each other, once a day?" 

Franky reached down and gently cupped Bridget's chin, scratching her nails lightly against her cheek. 

"That sounds good," Franky said softly before closing her eyes and pressing her lips against Bridget's. 

Bridget deepened the kiss as she placed her hands on Franky's arms. 

When the kiss broke, Franky leaned her forehead against Bridget's. 

"You know how incredibly amazing I think you are at your job, right? I don't think I've told you that enough. Those women need you, and I'm so glad they have you." 

"And," Franky stood up from the table and pulled Bridget with her. 

"You're easily the baddest bitch in the joint now that I'm gone," she winked. 

"Ha! Well, I don't know about that last part, babe, but thank you for thinking it." 

"Okay fine, maybe not the baddest, but definitely the spunkiest." 

Franky pulled Bridget to her and slung her arms around her waist. 

"And that counts for way more."  


	11. Learning to Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both women find themselves distracted the first time Bridget decides to wear Franky's underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Explicit for smut
> 
> ** I didn't expect these one-shots to progress in such a linear fashion in conjunction with the plot on the show, but here we are! So, if anyone has any requests/prompts/ideas for something they really wanted to see concerning our two favorite girls, a la Season 4 (god knows there's so much to choose from), please let me know! 
> 
> As always, many thanks for comments and kudos! They make my day.

Bridget leaned back in her desk chair and savored the first sip of her afternoon cuppa. She finally had a moment to herself (and her rising mountain of paperwork) after a busy morning filled with three back-to-back sessions and a staff meeting. A staff meeting where she learned that Joan Ferguson had been remanded to Wentworth, no less. _Jesus Fucking Christ._

She heard her phone vibrate within her desk. Swiping at her screen, the corners of her mouth turned up when she saw that she had a text from Franky. She had a job interview that morning for the Legal Relief Network and Bridget hoped to god that this would be Franky's big break. Legal Relief was a perfect fit for Franky and she had a feeling that she would flourish there. She just hoped that her interviewer could see that too. 

Bridget opened the text to discover that the message contained nothing about the job interview.

_Are you still wearing my underwear?_

Bridget smirked at her phone. 

 _Maybe_ , she sent back. 

She admittedly hadn't changed out of the colorful, silky material on purpose, despite her girlfriend's request. It was too late for Franky to put them on after she had to literally dart out of the house that morning anyway, and there was something that made Bridget feel equally safe and aroused at the thought of wearing Franky's underwear all day. 

Bridget pursed her lips and subconsciously crossed her legs as she typed out a second message, already feeling the blush creep up her cheeks as she wrote the words.

_Will I be punished later?_

Bridget hit 'send' before she could chicken out. She stared at the message thread on her screen for a few seconds, but after realizing that there was definitely a wet spot in the center of Franky's underwear that hadn't been there two minutes ago, she threw her phone back in her desk and shut the drawer. Going into her next counseling session extremely turned on was probably not the best idea. And while wearing a former top dog's pair of underwear, no less, for fuck's sake. 

Bridget ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head, unable to contain the amused grin that made its way across her features. She stared at the stiff, green armchair on the other side of the room, thinking about how many cold showers she had taken courtesy of Franky sitting in that very seat. 

Franky, who sauntered into her life with her bravado and war paint-laden green eyes. Franky, who stopped just inches from Bridget's body and asked how her lipstick tasted. Franky, who caressed her thumb along her lips and shot a fiery pulse down to Bridget's abdomen unlike anything she ever felt before. 

Bridget had never known an attraction like this could even exist before she met Franky. She was physically attracted to Franky from the moment she strolled into her group therapy session asking- no, demanding- to speak to Boomer without giving Bridget a second glance. But Bridget Westfall was nothing if not the epitome of professionalism and had long ago learned how to compartmentalize. 

So even when Franky left her feeling hot and bothered after a particular early counseling session, trying to get under the psychologist’s skin, she ignored it. She ignored it when her conscious mind betrayed her and wondered what Franky’s legs looked like underneath those teal tracksuit pants. She ignored it when she woke up in the middle of the night panting, her pussy swollen and soaked. 

She ignored it and pushed the attraction down until it wasn't just attraction anymore, when she found herself wandering the shops in the center of Melbourne on a breezy Saturday afternoon, spotting a gorgeous leather jacket in the window and wondering if it were Franky's style. That was when she knew she was totally, utterly fucked. Somewhere in all her efforts to remain professional and ignore the insane attraction she felt towards Franky Doyle, she had fallen so hopelessly and irrevocably in love with the woman. 

Bridget tried to shake the memories as she prepared for the rest of her workday, which would surely take more of a toll than usual. The women would find out about Ferguson's presence soon enough, no doubt. 

She downed her cuppa while jotting down some final notes, and gathered her files to head out to her next session. Her hand was on the doorknob when Bridget paused and bit her lip.

Oh, what the hell, she thought to herself. 

She scurried back to her desk and opened the top drawer, swiping the screen on Franky's name.

_You better fucking believe it. You'll be begging for them to come off when I'm done with you._

Bridget stared at the words, feeling warmth travel up her face and down to her core. Yep, this was going to be a long day. 

***

Bridget's day went from a long one to an utter shit storm in a matter of a half hour. Kim Chang had nearly stuffed herself during a meth freak out, and there was a part of Bridget that felt responsible. To say Kim hated her was an understatement, but up until that point, Bridget was perfectly fine with being Chang's figurative punching bag; better it her than one of the other women. But it was still Bridget's job to look after her mental state and she couldn't adequately do that if Kim wouldn't let her. And now look what happened.

On top of that, she had a run-in with Ferguson in the isolation unit that sent chills running down her spine for the rest of the afternoon. She could _smell_ Franky? Jesus. She didn't know how, but Ferguson knew her and Franky were living together, and she just prayed that their safe and beautiful bubble wasn't about to burst. 

The stress and anxiety of the day made Bridget forget all about that last suggestive text from Franky until she peeled off her tight black pants that night at home. She caught sight of the bright pink petals and decided against changing her underwear, hoping that Franky hadn't forgotten her promise. 

She hadn't. 

As Bridget loaded the dishwasher after yet another delicious meal (what did she even eat for dinner before Franky took over her kitchen, anyway?), she felt the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stand up at attention.

"Don't turn around." 

Bridget shivered, feeling Franky's hot breath on her skin.

Franky nipped at her ear lobe and ran her hands from the backs of Bridget's thighs to her arse, and continued up, stopping just below the hem of her tight singlet to rest at her hip bones. 

"Did you take them off yet?" Franky whispered in her ear. 

Bridget's heartbeat had already started to increase tenfold and she closed her eyes, letting the feel of Franky's breath and hands wash over her. The woman barely touched her and just the thought of what might come sent blood pumping to her core. 

"No." 

"Mmm," Franky sighed, and nipped at the back of Bridget's neck. 

"I think it's time to face the consequences, Gidge." 

Bridget swallowed hard. Franky's stilled fingertips felt electric against her hips, and she had the sudden urge to press her backside and roll her hips into Franky. 

"And what would those be?" 

"Well I think I'd better just show you." 

Franky finally moved her fingers from Bridget's waist, reaching for the waistband to Bridget's tiny, pink cotton shorts. She pulled on the waistband and snapped it lightly against Bridget's skin, eliciting a small groan from her lips.

Bridget reached around and gripped the side of Franky's leg, which still had her pinned against the counter. 

Franky immediately removed Bridget's hand and placed it back on the counter. 

"Uh-uh, no touching. Do you understand?" 

"Yes," Bridget squeaked out. 

Bridget felt a gush of arousal coat the now notorious pair of underwear. Never before had she submitted so easily to a woman. Prior to Franky, she was always the more dominant partner in sexual relationships. And while she had definitely shown Franky that side of her numerous times in the last few months, she learned that nothing quite got her off like being at the mercy of Franky Doyle. 

Suddenly, Bridget felt her wrists being yanked upwards and placed on the handles of the cabinet that hung above the counter. 

"Mm, that's better." Franky voice was thick and low, and Bridget knew that Franky was just as turned on right now as she was. 

Franky went back to her torturously slow ministrations on Bridget's body, trailing feather light touches up and down the back of her neck to her abdomen, making sure to hit all of Bridget's sensitive spots, until she was practically quivering. 

She nearly cried out when she felt Franky's hot breath return to the sensitive flesh under her ear.

"You've been a good girl so far. I think you deserve a little reward." 

With that, Franky's strong arms expertly flipped Bridget around so that she was facing Franky, her arse now pressed tightly against the counter. Bridget saw Franky's eyes travel down her chest, to her hardened nipples that were painfully straining against her tight, black singlet. 

Franky ran her thumbs over the raised nubs, and leaned down to place a light peck on one as she continued stroking the other overtop the cotton material. 

Bridget couldn't hold back any longer and let out a load moan, "oh fuck, Franky." 

"Atta girl." Franky released Bridget's nipple and suddenly reached down to the hem of Bridget's shirt and tugged it off in one swoop, leaving Bridget standing in front of her clad only in her tiny bottoms, her breasts fully exposed. 

Bridget saw Franky's eyes dilate and go dark with pure lust; no one had ever made Bridget feel as fucking desirable as Franky in her whole existence. 

"Please, let me touch you, baby," Bridget begged. 

"Not yet. There's still a little problem we have to address, yeah?" 

Franky hoisted her thigh in between Bridget's legs so that it was resting lighting against her core. 

Bridget groaned and shut her eyes, the new sensation of Franky so close to where she wanted her to be was almost too much to handle.

"I wonder how wet you are, baby? Tell me, did you get my underwear dirty today thinking of me? Thinking of what I might do to you when you got home?" 

Bridget moaned again and licked her lips, her mouth suddenly too dry and her brain too muddled to form actual words. 

"Answer me," Franky breathed against her neck as she increased the pressure of her thigh on Bridget's center. 

"Ahhh, yes, baby. God, I was so wet today thinking about you." 

"Good girl, that's what I like to hear." 

Franky latched her mouth once again onto Bridget's nipple, and moved her hands back down to the waistband of her shorts. 

Bridget tried to steady herself and gripped the edge of the counter, throwing her head back. Her pussy throbbed against the offending materials and she knew she had soaked through the underwear. 

Franky finally yanked the shorts down Bridget's toned legs and helped her step out of them, but left the underwear in place.

Franky kneeled on the kitchen floor and leaned into Bridget, so that her mouth was dangerously close to exactly where Bridget was dying for her to be. 

Bridget felt another gush come through her folds as she felt Franky's breath against her core. 

"Ya know, I have to admit, Gidge. I couldn't stop thinking about how fucking hot you looked wearing my underwear this morning." 

Bridget cried out as she felt Franky draw her pointer finger across the material right over her pulsing slit. 

"After I got home today, all I could think about was how gorgeous you would look as you came all over them." 

Bridget whimpered and grasped Franky’s shoulder right above her bright Phoenix tattoo, resisting the urge to sink her nails in her flesh.

"Is that what you want to do, beautiful? Do you want me to make you come?" 

"God, yes, please, Franky! That's all I want, please touch me. I need you." 

Franky groaned and closed the space between her mouth and the now drenched, flimsy silk, delicately covering Bridget's mound. 

Bridget’s hips bucked into Franky’s mouth. "Oh fuck, yes!"

Franky flicked her tongue against Bridget's engorged clit, and Bridget felt some wetness escape the thin material and run down her leg. 

"Oh fuck, Bridget," Franky breathed before she reached down with her tongue to lick the juices off of her thigh. 

Bridget whimpered; she didn't think she had even been this wet before. 

Franky's mouth returned to its previous spot against Bridget's core, this time increasing the pressure on Bridget's clit. 

Bridget rolled her neck and started to moan uncontrollably. Franky gripped her arse, pressing Bridget further into her mouth. She ran her tongue over where Bridget's entrance was nestled under the underwear, and then back to her clit. 

"Fuck, Franky, I'm going to come!" Oh fuck I'm gonna come!" Bridget continued to babble as Franky kept up her ministrations as she parted the underwear from Bridget's soaked pussy and slipped a finger into her opening. 

Bridget immediately felt her muscles tighten on Franky's finger, and with one more flick of Franky's tongue, she came, screaming out, arousal pouring out over the flimsy garment.

Franky supported Bridget's now limp body as she extracted her finger and mouth to finally yank the underwear down Bridget's legs. 

Bridget whimpered at the loss of contact until she felt Franky back on her, this time thrusting two fingers inside of her sensitive flesh. 

"Oh! Oh, god." 

Franky curled her fingers up against Bridget's inner walls, which were still pulsing from her first orgasm, and pressed. 

Bridget screamed again and her legs buckled against Franky. Franky drew circles with her mouth directly next to Bridget's over-sensitive bud, and that was enough to put her over the edge again. 

Bridget saw stars behind her eyes as her pussy contracted over and over and Franky's fingers continued to rub against her inner walls. 

When Bridget finally came down from her high, her chest heaving and her limbs heavy, Franky gently drew her fingers out of Bridget, placed a tender kiss on her lips, and pulled her down to the floor with her. Franky helped her curl up in her lap as Bridget circled her arms around Franky's waist and buried her head into her chest. 

Franky kissed the top of Bridget's head. 

"You are so beautiful."

Bridget smiled against Franky's sweater but couldn't yet muster much more. 

Eventually, after her breathing slowed and her legs and arms felt a little more human and little less like jelly, she picked up her head and looked at Franky. 

"Wow." 

"Wow is right, Gidge. I have to tell ya, the fantasies that were running through my mind all god-damn day didn't even hold a candle to the real thing." 

Bridget blushed. 

"Does this mean I get to wear your underwear whenever I want?" 

"Let's not get crazy now, spunks." 

Bridget chuckled against Franky's chest. 

Franky continued, "but let's just say my position on sharing my stuff is now officially open for renegotiation." 

Bridget picked her head back up and rested her forehead against Franky's.

"Sounds like a breakthrough, baby." 

Franky laughed and pressed her lips against Bridget's, before standing up and sauntering into the bedroom, pulling Bridget along with her.


	12. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Franky makes the brave decision to move out of Bridget's house in order to grow, Bridget visits Franky's room at the bedsit for the first time to help her unpack and get settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twelve inches of snow outside my door today led to this chapter getting done a day early, woo! Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you for the lovely kudos and comments, they mean so much.

Prior to just an hour ago, Bridget had never been to Franky's bedsit. Franky was hardly ever here herself, just enough to keep up appearances for her parole officer. She looked around the small space, taking in the scarcity and the bare walls; the place definitely didn’t scream ‘warm and cozy’, like Bridget’s did. The apartment wasn't anything special- just big enough for a small bed, not much bigger than the one in her old cell, a dresser, closet, and a kitchenette area. But it wasn't in a halfway house and it was safe and private and that's all that really mattered. Especially now, that she would be spending most of her nights here, instead of tucked away in Bridget's arms in her big, comfy, safe bed. 

Franky tried to ignore the empty pit in her stomach. She never thought the reason for Bridget's first visit would be to help Franky unpack all of her shit, where it would be staying indefinitely. 

Bridget's voice from across the room interrupted Franky's spiraling thoughts. 

"That's weird, could have sworn I threw this in the laundry yesterday." 

Franky spun around from her place at the counter in the small kitchenette to see Bridget, perched on the bed, holding her favorite, old and worn t-shirt from uni; she usually wore it to bed at least once or twice a week. 

Bridget's eyes were narrowed and the corners of her mouth were turned up in a closed-lip half smile, looking at Franky with an amused, expectant expression.

 _Shit. I thought I hid that better,_ Franky thought. 

"I, uh, well I don't really have any pajamas, so I thought..." 

Franky let her voice trail off, not really knowing where she was going with that sentence. She crossed her arms and averted her eyes from Bridget, as if she were a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Bridget motioned for Franky to join her on the bed, patting the edge of the mattress. 

"What? I really don't have any!" 

"I know," Bridget replied simply. "Just come here." 

Franky mockingly huffed and begrudgingly made her way to the bed. She sat down and Bridget immediately placed her hand on Franky's leg and leaned into her side. 

"I like the idea of falling asleep at night knowing you're wearing my shirt," Bridget said as she twirled a piece of Franky's hair between her fingers. 

Franky turned her head towards Bridget, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and tentative. 

"You do?" 

"Of course I do. I'll feel like a part of me is with you, even if we're not actually together." 

Franky sighed and leaned into Bridget's body. She didn't know why she was embarrassed to ask Bridget if she could have the shirt. Of course Gidge understood, and she was so thankful that Bridget had just expressed what she had been trying to put into words for the last couple of days. 

Franky wasn't usually one to put much stock into the sentimental value of inanimate objects. Things were just things, and just like most people, they wouldn't stick around forever. She used to keep a photo of her and her dad from when she was about six years old, but that was it. And after she told him off when he visited her at Wentworth, she tore it up, swearing to herself that she would never fall asleep clutching something stupid and material ever again. But yesterday she found herself digging out Bridget's t-shirt from the bottom of the hamper because it smelled like her and it was the closest goddamn thing to actually being next to her while she slept. 

"I thought wearing it to bed might help me sleep, but I was too embarrassed to ask ya. I'm sorry, Gidge," Franky explained sheepishly. 

"Don't apologize, baby. It's yours now." 

Bridget placed a soft kiss on Franky's head.

"I do have a little something else for you, kind of a small housewarming present. Since I didn't get you anything before, because you weren't actually living here," Bridget added, smiling.

"Gidge, you've gotten me plenty, for Christ sake." 

Bridget ignored her and climbed off the bed. She walked over to her purse, retrieving a nicely wrapped present in the shape of a rectangle, roughly the size of a book. 

Bridget handed the present to Franky, "Open it." 

There was that glint in her eye that Franky loved so much. 

Franky carefully tore the shiny gold paper and felt the air she just sucked in get caught in the back of throat.

It wasn't a book; it was a simple, but beautiful, solid black frame, holding a photo that Franky had taken of the two of them while they were on holiday. They were sitting on the wet sand, the ocean visible a few feet behind them. Franky was smiling directly into the camera, her eyes shining, while Bridget had her arms slung around her neck, looking at Franky with this awe-struck, dopey expression on her face- like Franky was the fucking sun that lit up the entire sky. 

"I know it's not really fair to give you a picture, because you can't even have it out all the time in case your parole officer stops in, but I know it's your favorite and I just wanted you to have it."

Franky wasn't sure how Bridget knew it was her favorite, she didn't think she ever mentioned it. 

"I saw you looking at it in my phone a few times," Bridget explained, as if reading her mind. 

Franky felt her eyes start to water as she fingered the glass frame. 

"Thank you, it's perfect." 

Franky placed the photo down carefully on her bedside table and reached for Bridget, wrapping her arms around her waist and laying her head in the crook of her shoulder. 

"You'll still come over for dinner a few nights a week, yeah?" Bridget asked. 

"Uh, hells yeah! I reckon someone's gotta feed ya something decent, can't have you going back to take-out seven nights a week," Franky teased, gently poking her elbow into Bridget's stomach. 

"Ha, ha. Very funny." 

Franky broke into a big, open-mouthed grin and clicked her tongue. 

"Yeah you know, I was thinking maybe we could do a dinner party with Vera again, that was fun! Make it a regular Sunday night thing or something." 

"Why, so you can ask her to pass you all of the condiments this time?" Bridget teased back. 

Franky threw her arms in the air as if she were offended but couldn't hold back her pleased grin. 

"I couldn't reach the pepper!" 

Bridget narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. 

"Mmhm." 

 They settled into a comfortable silence, both unwilling to untangle from each other, hoping to prolong the first goodbye as long as possible. 

After a few minutes, Bridget was the first to speak, her voice not much louder than a whisper. 

"It's still your home, you know that right? My house, I mean. It's your home." 

Franky felt that all too familiar tightness creeping up her throat, preventing her from speaking actual words to answer Bridget. 

That was it, wasn't it? It was something Franky thought about countless times throughout her life, but never spoke the words aloud- wouldn't dare to. Franky never had a real home before. A house, yes. Four walls and a place to sleep at night? Yep. But never a home, where she felt safe and loved and happy. So fucking happy. And here was Bridget, telling her it was okay, and to take all the time she needed; her home would be waiting for her, unchanged, whenever she got back. 

Franky sniffled against Bridget's chest, feeling a tear break and land on her cheek. 

"And I don't want you to ever give that key back to me again, okay?" 

Franky found her voice to squeak out an "okay." 

Franky lifted her head and wiped her eyes, exhaling light raspberries, trying to shake the thick cloud of emotion that engulfed her. She cupped Bridget's chin with one hand and placed the other on her cheek. 

"Thank you." 

Bridget replied silently, pulling her in for the deepest, most excruciatingly tender kiss, expressing her understanding in the meaning behind Franky's simple words.

Bridget finally separated their lips and placed her forehead against Franky's. 

"Always," she whispered, as she rubbed her thumb along Franky's cheek. 

Bridget took a deep breath and pulled herself away. "Okay, well listen babe, I better go, because if I don't go now then I never will." 

Bridget's voiced cracked at the end and Franky could see that her eyes were glistening, but it only lasted a second. That was her Gidget, always so goddamn strong. 

"Call me when you wake up?" Bridget asked as she reached for her bag. 

"You won't be awake," Franky pointed out. 

"I don't care." 

Franky smiled at Bridget, "Okay, I'll call ya. I promise. And dinner on Wednesday, right?"

"Already counting down the hours." 

Franky walked over to Bridget by the door and wrapped her arms around her neck. 

"I love you, Gidge." 

"I love you too, baby." 

Bridget leaned into Franky for one last kiss, squeezed her tight, and left the bedsit, winking at Franky on her way out the door. 

Franky sighed and rubbed her eyes, and tried not to focus on how empty her tiny room suddenly seemed. She walked over to her dresser to finish putting her clothes away; she opened her underwear drawer and a small piece a paper in the corner of the drawer caught her eye. 

Franky smiled, recognizing Bridget's loopy scrawl.

_I owe you two pairs of underwear. Sorry, couldn't help myself._

_I love you,_

_xx, G_


	13. First Day Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anxious Franky stops by Bridget's the night before her first day at Legal Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I can't thank everyone enough for your comments and kudos <3

Bridget hummed along to the quiet music in the background of the kitchen as she finished typing up a patient referral form. Listening to music while working at home was a newly formed habit over the last week; suddenly she found the house much too quiet and the silence, which used to be comforting after a long day at work, now seemed deafening. Bridget hadn’t realized quite how empty the house would be at night, without the sight of legal books and notes strewn across the table. Or the smell of something delicious wafting through the halls. Or the sound of a bang coming from the bedroom followed by an inevitable “fuck!”. Or the feel of a soft, strong hand tugging her up from her seat to spin her around the living room just for the hell of it.

Just then, Bridget’s phone lit up and pinged next to her computer. She swiped the screen and the newly displayed text already somehow made the house seem a little more full.

_FINALLY finished shopping. Ya up for some company?_

Bridget quickly typed back.

_From you, always._

_Ace, see you in a few. xx_

Fifteen minutes later, Bridget heard the front door open and the sound of bags and shoes being dropped to the floor.

“In the kitchen!” Bridget called.

In a matter of seconds she was pulled into a tight hug, Franky’s arms holding her around her shoulders and her head buried into Bridget’s neck.

Bridget settled into her girlfriend, letting the moment linger for however long Franky wanted; Bridget could feel the stress rolling off of Franky in waves. When Franky finally loosened her grip, Bridget gently tugged her face down so she could press her lips against Franky’s.

“You’re going to be amazing tomorrow, you know that? You’re going to ace your first day at Legal Relief and knock the socks off of everyone in the network, hmm?”

Franky shook her head and crinkled her nose.

“Well it would be a start if I had one bloody good outfit to wear, huh? I thought that would the easiest part of my day and I spent three fucking hours in that stuffy store.”

“Do you want to show me what you got?” Bridget asked gently.

Franky let out a sizeable breath and dropped her tense shoulders.

“Could I, Gidge? I reckon you could tell me what looks good, given that you have a knack for being the sexiest, best-dressed professional,” Franky added with a wink.

Bridget chuckled and shook her head.

“Franky, practically every other person at Wentworth is either in a teal tracksuit or an officer’s uniform.”

“Narr, even if they weren’t, you would still win the award. And I’m not biased, everyone says that!”

Bridget narrowed her eyes and brows, about to ask Franky who in god’s name constituted ‘everyone’, but before she could get the words out Franky darted back into the front hallway to retrieve her bags, yelling that she would be back in a minute with her first outfit choice.

Franky walked back into the living room three minutes later, sporting black crop pants paired with a collared black blazer over a sheer white sleeveless top, somewhat similar to the one she wore for her interview.

“That looks great, babe! Very professional but still your style. What’s wrong with it?”

Franky groaned as she pulled on the hem of the shirt.

“Dunno, it’s just kind of ‘blah’. And what if I get hot? I don’t know how they’ll feel about the tats if I take the blazer off.”

“Franky, honestly, I feel like your tattoos will work to your advantage at Legal Relief. Could be a way to connect with some of your clients.”

Franky cocked her head and bit down on her bottom lip.

“I guess I never thought about that. You’re probably right.”

“I am,” Bridget stated with a smile.

“Always are,” Franky sang as she left the room to grab some more clothes.

Franky continued to put on a mini fashion show for Bridget for the next half hour, until they decided on Franky’s outfits for her first three days.

After changing into a pair of Bridget’s lounge pants and a singlet, Franky sighed and collapsed onto the couch, pulling Bridget down next to her.

“That was fucking exhausting. Who knew picking out a few outfits could take so much goddamn effort.”

“Baby, for the larger part of the last three years, you haven’t had to think about what you’re wearing each day. It’s normal, yeah? It’s normal and it’s okay to be stressed. About the big things, and the small ones.”

Bridget stroked her fingers through Franky’s loose hair.

“And you know I’m always here when it gets to be too much,” she said softly.

Franky smiled wistfully at Bridget and lightly scraped her nails along her cheek.

“Sometimes I still don’t think you could possibly be real, ya know that?" 

“I am very real, and so is everything else. I know you’re scared. But you’ve worked so hard- so fucking hard, harder than anyone else I’ve ever known in my life. And you deserve this. You deserve this job, this life. You are going to kick major arse tomorrow, Franky. Just like you said, you’ll be their newest, biggest, baddest, paralegal bitch- they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Franky laughed at Bridget’s last comment and wiped the emotion from her eyes.

“Thanks, Gidge.”

Bridget hummed and kissed the top of Franky’s head.

“How was the rest of your day, before you went shopping?”

“Ugh, kinda sucked. I was trying to study some of Legal Relief’s cases that were settled within the last year, but I got distracted.”

Franky paused, and Bridget could sense some hesitation in the way her voice trailed off and her eyes avoided Bridget's. But Franky continued, pressing her pointer fingers against her temples.

“My dad called. Asked if I wanted to meet him and Tessa again in the park this week.”

 _Ah_. Bridget had a feeling there was something else bothering Franky other than pre-work jitters.

Her mind flashed to the conversation they had late one night two weeks ago, after Franky had picked Bridget up from work and told her about her decision to move out.

_My dad somehow tracked me down. I have a sister. A three-year-old sister, Gidge. She’s practically still a baby. She looks like me._

It was shocking news to Bridget, and so she couldn’t even begin to imagine the reeling emotions Franky was experiencing. Bridget didn’t say much that night; Franky wasn’t ready for questions because she didn’t have the answers yet- how could she? So Bridget simply wrapped her up in her arms and told her that if she wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship with her dad or her sister, that it was okay. And if she were, then she would be the best big sister in the world to that little girl.

“What did you say to your dad?” Bridget gently prodded, returning to the present.

“I told him I would call him back. But then I was just thinking about it all bloody day.”

Franky sat up and shook her head, trying to ward away the millions of ruminating thoughts running through her mind.

Bridget reached for Franky’s hand, hoping to silently covey her unconditional support. She sensed that Franky still wasn’t ready to hash this out with her- just wanted Bridget to simply be there.

Again, Bridget couldn’t even begin to imagine this seemingly unreal situation that Franky was presented with. From what Franky had told her, Alan Doyle had been a decent dad to Franky until he left- left Franky not only alone, but subsequently subjected to horrific physical and mental abuse at the hands of her mother. Professionally and intellectually, Bridget understood that Alan Doyle was not inherently a bad guy, and if she had to guess, he probably suffered from deep mental anguish himself. But Bridget felt a fierce protectiveness over Franky, and didn’t want her to experience any more pain at the hands of her family than she already had- what if her dad left again? Would it be too much for Franky to see her dad raising her sister, thinking that could have been her all those years ago? There was no way to know the answers to those questions. The only thing Bridget knew for sure was that whatever Franky’s decision, she would back her one hundred percent.

Franky suddenly turned her body back into Bridget’s and placed a deep, long, kiss on her lips. Bridget was taken aback but soon settled into the kiss, tangling her tongue with Franky’s. When they broke for air, Franky placed her forehead against Bridget’s and trailed her fingers down her chest.

“I don’t want to think about my family right now. I don’t want to think about work right now. I just want to think about you.”

Bridget recognized this particular lustful, intense look in Franky’s eyes, the one that silently pleaded with Bridget to allow her a few minutes of escape from a suffocating reality.

Bridget nodded, knowing that Franky needed this. Needed to relax. Needed to feel Bridget’s arms around her.

She stroked Franky’s cheek.

“I’m right here, baby.”

“I know,” Franky’s voice cracked and her lips crashed back onto Bridget’s.

***

The next afternoon Bridget found her herself in her office at Wentworth, desperately trying to concentrate on her work. She slammed her laptop closed after realizing that she had read the same line on an admissions’ document five times.

She sighed, her mind continuously returning to thoughts of Franky, wondering how her first day of work was progressing- what she was doing, if her co-workers were nice. If she was still thinking about her dad’s phone call.

Bridget had texted Franky early in the morning to wish her good luck, and Franky finally responded just fifteen minutes before she was due in the office. 

_I’m sitting in the car-park and sweat is literally dripping out of my armpits like a fucking monsoon. Guess I don’t need to worry about taking my blazer off- I bloody won’t be able to!!!!_

 

_I promise that most of the nerves will go away as soon as you walk in, baby. You got this. You’re ready. I love you and can’t wait to hear all about it later. xx G_

Bridget hadn’t heard from her since, but it wasn’t like that was unexpected; she was sure that Franky wasn’t going to have time to check her phone until at least lunch time.

Just then, there was a knock at her door and Vera popped her head in. 

"Oh god, what has Ferguson done now?" Bridget cringed. 

"Oh no, no.. nothing." 

Vera fiddled with the buttons on her pristine Governor's uniform. 

"Um, I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to maybe take a long lunch with me? Outside of Wentworth, I mean. I'll drive. If you're busy though it's no-" 

Bridget held up her hand to cut off Vera's ramble. 

"You know what? That sounds amazing, I don't have another session for a few hours. Let's go." 

***

Bridget was a little surprised but extremely pleased that Vera had asked her to join her for lunch. The two always had a bit of a complicated relationship, but Bridget liked Vera, and between the time of Franky's parole hearing and when Ferguson had been remanded to Wentworth, they developed quite a nice friendship at work. That all went to shit of course when Vera discovered the truth about her romantic relationship with Franky. She knew Vera felt personally slighted, as if Bridget purposefully pulled the wool over her eyes, and for that she truly felt awful. Vera had every right to fire her, and she was lucky to still have a job. Perhaps their friendship was still salvageable. 

It was clear that Vera just needed some fresh air that day, and Bridget couldn't blame her, given what she had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. They spent the first half of their lunch talking about how Vera's new programs for the women were going- a definite positive in a recent sea of mostly negative. 

Bridget didn't realize how many times she must have checked her phone until Vera called her out. 

"Are you waiting for a call?" 

Bridget cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she threw her phone in her bag. 

"Oh, no. No, I'm not. Sorry." 

Vera nodded curtly and Bridget knew she could just drop it, but something told her not to. 

"It's Franky first day of work today at Legal Relief. I haven't heard from her. I guess I'm just wondering how it's going," she explained. 

Vera cleared her throat and put down her silverware. 

"It's great that Franky's doing so well. I, um, I mean that." 

Bridget nodded and her eyes went a tiny bit wider, probably giving away that she wasn't expecting such a sincere response. 

After a pause, Vera looked at Bridget as if she were studying her, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. 

"You love her, don't you?" 

Bridget paused mid-chew, not quite sure if she heard Vera's question correctly. 

"Doyle. You love her?" 

Okay, yep, she definitely heard her right the first time. 

Bridget took a deep breath and looked Vera squarely in the eye. 

"I do. I really do." 

Vera nodded. 

"Look, Bridget. I think I owe you an apology. Again."

Vera brought her hands together and then brushed them on the napkin in her lap before she continued. 

"You were right, I did take it a bit personally- yours and Franky's relationship. But, um- I could see, after our dinner last week? That it has nothing to do with me. It's clear that you have something... real. And it's not my place to interfere." 

Vera cleared her throat again. 

"So, I'm sorry." 

Bridget was at a loss for words. Never had she expected those words to come from Vera's mouth- at least not now, during their impromptu work lunch. Franky would lose her shit when Bridget recounted this story, that was for sure. 

"Thank you, Vera. Truly. I- I don't really know what to say. But thank you. And I know that Franky will appreciate it too." 

Vera offered Bridget a small smile, and the two finished their meals before heading back to Wentworth, both feeling much lighter than when they left. 

*** 

It was nearing dinnertime when Bridget opened her front door and threw down her work bag. She still hadn't heard from Franky. She desperately wanted to check in on her- her workday should have been over an hour ago. But Franky said she would call as soon as she could, and Bridget didn't want to nag her for god's sake. Maybe she went out for a drink with her co-workers, or maybe she decided to go meet her dad and Tessa in the park. 

 _You're not the only person in her life anymore_ , Bridget chastised herself. 

Suddenly she registered a knock at the door, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. 

"Gidge?" 

Bridget rushed back into the front hallway, unable to help the giant grin that spread across her face. Franky enveloped her into a big bear hug, leaning her chin down on the top of Bridget's head. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call, my phone died towards the end of the day because I had to use it so much. I'll have to bring a charger. Figured I'd just drive over- I grabbed food from your favorite Indian place," Franky picked up the hidden bag off of the floor and winked. 

Bridget still hadn't been able to wipe the smile off of her face, the one Franky loved so much that traveled all the way up to the corners of her eyes. 

"You always knew the way to my heart, babe." 

Bridget craned her neck to peck Franky's lips. 

"So? How was it?" Bridget asked, raising both her eyebrows as well as the octave of her voice. 

"How was what?" Franky teased. 

Bridget reached for her waist and tickled her sides, causing Franky to squirm away laughing, putting her hands up in surrender. 

"Ah, it was great, Gidge, it really was. I'm so fucking exhausted, but in the best way." 

Bridget went about setting the table as a Franky immediately began to recount her tiring, but exciting first day. 

Bridget was so proud of Franky, listening to her speak with such a light in her eyes about the work she had done throughout the day. How she already annotated some cases and was asked for her input on others, and how her supervisor told her she was the most prepared paralegal on their first day that they ever employed. 

"I think I'm gonna do okay there, Gidge," Franky said as she scooped up some chicken and rice from her plate. 

"I reckon you're going to do more than okay, baby." 

***

A half hour later the women were clearing the table when Franky suddenly gasped. 

"Oh my god, I didn't even ask how your day was. No meth freak outs? No word from the freak?" 

"No, and no," Bridget answered as she put the wine back in the fridge. 

"But I did have quite the interesting lunch with Vera today..."


	14. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Bridget feels the familiar pangs of jealousy, she pushes them so far down she almost forgets about them. Almost.

Bridget turned and slowed her sedan down as she pulled into the bar's bustling car park. Luckily, just as she rounded to the front of the lot, a large group of rowdy twenty-somethings climbed into their car and sped away, leaving an empty space directly in front of the bar's entranceway. 

Bridget smiled as she pulled the keys from the ignition. The sight of the group of friends took her back to a much younger version of herself- the version that could easily throw six shots back with her mates on a Thursday night and wake up the next morning to ace an exam for Clinical. She definitely couldn't manage that now, but it didn't bother her; she didn't miss the amped lifestyle. No, at forty-three, she was more than content to spend her late nights in, preferably wrapped around her girlfriend. 

As if on queue, Bridget caught sight of Franky just inside the bar's lounge, laughing and tossing a swig of her beer back. She sighed. Even though she loved her quiet nights with Franky, that's not to say she wouldn't mind having the option to spend a night out in the city to drink and dance and show her gorgeous girl off. Right this very moment she would even settle for simply being able to get out of the damn car and meet Franky's co-workers. But that wasn't on the table. Not now, when there were still possible repercussions for their involvement. 

Bridget frowned and leaned the side of her head against the windowsill. It wasn't fair.

She stole a peek back inside at Franky as she threw her black leather jacket on and downed the last of her beer. She said something to the bloke sitting to her right, causing him to laugh as Franky flashed her signature open-mouthed smirk. She looked at ease and in her element. She looked beautiful. 

All of the sudden, Bridget watched as a young blonde meandered over to Franky, stopping mere inches from her body to reach out and finger the zipper on her leather jacket. 

Bridget perked up, craning her neck and squinting her eyes in an attempt to get a better view. 

Franky stepped to the side, and the girl turned so that Bridget now had a clear view of her face. Shit. She was evidently gorgeous and looked like she should have left with the twenty-somethings crew. She was maybe twenty-five, if that. 

Bridget caught sight of the look in the young girl's brown eyes and her stomach involuntarily plunged, a piercing twinge registering deep in her gut. It was a feeling that she absolutely did not wish to label. Bridget knew that look well; it was how she herself looked at Franky every day of her life- a look of a pure awe mixed with wonder and lust. 

The girl somehow ended up back in Franky's personal space again, flipping her bright hair and gently touching Franky's forearm with her fingertips. That unpleasant twinge in Bridget's abdomen returned, despite her best efforts to ignore it. She saw Franky sidestep out of the girl's grasp; she clearly wasn't responding to the obvious come-on, her body language more conservative than earlier, with her arms crossed and smile now more professional than casual. It didn't stop Bridget from wanting to saunter in there and throw her arms around Franky's waist- let the girl know that Franky was completely, one hundred percent taken. 

Franky finally seemed to escape the cornering and made her way to the door, tossing a little wave her co-workers' way before stepping outside. Bridget sat up straight and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake the nasty sensation still brewing. 

Franky darted the few feet to the car and climbed into the passenger seat, a wide smile spreading across her features as she made eye-contact with Bridget. 

"Hey-ya, Spunky!" 

Franky reached across the center console to place a quick kiss on Bridget's lips. Bridget was so glad she splurged for those tinted windows a few years back. 

"Hey-ya, yourself, baby. Did you have fun?" 

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for pickin' me up, although I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed. I was expecting the Porsche," Franky teased. 

Bridget smirked, a gleam returning to her eyes. 

"Well sorry, babe. The hot girl and hot car two-for deal was a one-time thing, I'm afraid."

Franky clicked her tongue. 

"I can live with that, as long as the hot girl never goes away." 

"She won't," Bridget replied softly. 

Franky pulled her in for another kiss, this one deeper and longer than the first, and Bridget almost forgot all about the pretty blonde hanging on Franky's arm just a moment ago. 

***

It turned out that 'almost' was the key word. Bridget didn't forget, her mind constantly flashing to the way the young blonde touched Franky. The way she unabashedly eye-fucked her. 

But she was determined to enjoy her Friday night with Franky, and no way in hell was some random girl going to get in the way of that. It didn't even dignify having a conversation about; she knew Franky could handle herself. 

Her plan nearly worked, too. It worked right up until the moment that Franky's phone lit up and vibrated during the movie they were watching, and she announced that 'Katie from work' texted her. Apparently Katie wanted to go out for drinks again next week. 

The words were out of Bridget's mouth before she could stop them. 

"Is Katie the girl that couldn't keep her hands off of you at the bar?" 

_Fuck._

Franky put her phone down and crinkled her eyes and nose. She paused their movie, rotating her position on the couch so that she was facing Bridget. 

"Ah, you noticed that? Poor girl had too much to drink. She's harmless, I think she's just excited there's another lezzo in the office." 

Bridget arched her eyebrows at Franky. 

"What? Don't worry, Gidge, I'll turn down my irresistible charm, I promise," Franky winked. 

"From the looks of it it's gonna take a little bit more than that, babe." 

Bridget's tone came out much harsher than she intended. 

"Well what do you want me to do, Gidge? She's just some kid with a little crush, she'll get over herself eventually." 

Bridget crossed her arms over her waist. She bit her tongue before she pointed out that the girl really wasn't a kid- she was less than ten years younger than Franky for sure, and that was a smaller age gap than Bridget and Franky had between them. 

"If you say so." 

Franky narrowed her eyes. 

"What? What's wrong? Does this really bother you that much?" 

"No, of course not." 

Wonderful. Now she was lying, too. But Bridget couldn't bear to admit how much it actually _did_ bother her. She was just too embarrassed to own up to it.

Franky saw right through her. 

"I don't believe you. What's going on?" 

Bridget shook her head, "Nothing!" 

"Bullshit." 

"Franky, drop it. Like you said, it's just some girl at work with a crush. It's not like I think you're going to go have sex with her in the break room." 

Franky's eyes widened and her mouth formed a silent 'O'. 

"Oh my god, do you though?" 

Bridget scoffed as if that were the most ridiculous question she'd ever been asked, but she could feel her skin begin to flush. 

"Of course I don't!" 

"Then what is it?" Franky repeated. 

"Franky, I said to drop it, I'm just tired, okay?" 

Franky frowned and shook her head.

"Nah, I don't think I'm going to drop it, 'Miss. 'Let's-Talk-About-Your-Feelings'."

Bridget sighed under her breath. Okay, she deserved that. 

"Bridget, for fuck's sake-"

"Fine! You want the truth? The truth is I was jealous, okay?"

Bridget let out a frustrated groan and buried her face in her hand, grasping at her temples. She just wanted to hide. 

Bridget felt Franky put her hand on her knee and inch closer. 

"Gidge?" Franky's voice was much softer than a moment ago. 

Bridget kept her face hidden. 

"I know it's stupid... just so completely irrational," she muttered under her breath. "So that's why it's fine to let it go, okay? I'm sorry I even said anything." 

"No, it's not stupid. Look at me, will ya?" 

Bridget rolled her eyes but took her hand off her face. 

Franky put her hand behind Bridget's neck and tucked the ever-present stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Gidget," Franky breathed. "Talk to me." 

Bridget looked up to the ceiling and cleared her throat, trying to find the words. 

"Listen, I don't know, okay?"

But Bridget did know. She knew exactly what the issue was, she just didn't want to admit it. Even to herself. 

"Maybe it was the way she was eyeing you up, like you were some fucking conquest that she was about to undertake. Maybe... maybe it's that the girl is literally half my age and fucking gorgeous. Or maybe..." 

Bridget paused and took a deep breath. 

"Maybe it's that she was in there with you, when I couldn't be, with all your new co-workers, touching you and looking at you the way that I look at you-the way that I wanted to be looking at you in that moment. But I couldn't be there, could I? I couldn't walk in and kiss you hello and introduce myself. Instead I was sitting in the fucking car, watching some random girl have the moment that I should have been having. And it's not your fault, Franky. It's mine. It's my fault that we still have to hide. So I have absolutely no right to even feel this way." 

Franky reached for Bridget's hand but didn't say anything, her silence propelling Bridget into defense mode. 

"See? I told you it's fucking stupid. Forget it." Her voice cracked and she cursed herself. 

"No it's not. Come here."

Franky placed one hand on Bridget's cheek and one at the bottom of her chin, gently nudging upwards so that Bridget would look her in the eye. 

"Listen, you always tell me that my feelings aren't irrational and I got news for ya, neither are yours. You always tell me, and a hundred other suckers a week for that matter, that feelings, no matter what they are, are valid. But I reckon someone needs to tell you, too. I'm sorry, Gidge, I'm so sorry. I totally dropped the ball because I haven't been telling you that."

"Franky, stop." 

"No, just listen to me, okay? Listen." 

Bridget sighed but shut her mouth. She knew Franky was right. She spent a lot of time convincing others that their feelings were dignified, but the truth was, she held herself to a higher standard. She knew how wrong that was, but after relationship upon relationship in which she was the sole provider of emotional support, she learned it was just easier to mask her insecurities. Historically, it never went well when her partners got wind that there were other dimensions to Bridget besides the cool, calm, emotionally intelligent professional. But she had flaws and needed validation just like any other human.  

Bridget felt her chest tighten as Franky's words sunk in. Franky, who was learning for the first time how to live without a mask herself, was letting Bridget know that it was okay to take hers off, too. 

Bridget was glad Franky kept talking because she didn't think she was capable at the moment, her emotion threatening to erupt at any second. 

"First of all, just so you know, no one in this world has anything on you, okay? And that's the honest truth. I used to be game for fucking any pretty girl that came my way, but then I met you. And after that, no one seemed to compare. Couldn't imagine anyone else in my bed. Scared the fuck out of me, to be honest."

Franky nudged Bridget and flashed a small smile, and Bridget couldn't help but mirror the gesture. 

"Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? Do you notice all the heads that turn when you walk into a room? Like you're a goddamn goddess. But you really don't notice, do you?"

Bridget scoffed, turning and shaking her head. A shade a pink creeped up her neck;  Bridget knew she had a pretty nice body, but the way that Franky made her feel was something else entirely. 

Franky continued, "And it's not your fault that we have to be careful in public, stop saying that. I know it sucks. It sucks so fucking much that I can't walk into the bar holding your hand or just grab you and kiss you. I want to show the world how lucky I feel that you're my girl. I can't wait for that day to come, but until then we'll just have to get a bit creative, yeah?" 

Franky paused for a second and bit down on her bottom lip. 

"Can I be honest with you?" 

Bridget cocked her head, "Do you even have to ask that?" 

Franky ignored the rhetorical question. 

"Part of me is happy to hear that you were jealous of Katie. Katie, who, by the way- is a doe-eyed kid who only thinks I'm hot shit because I've got tattoos and been to prison. But the truth is Gidge? I'm yours. And I _want_ you to want to tell people to back the fuck off. I've never felt like that before. Like I want to _be_ someone else's," she said with a shake of her head. 

"I want to be yours, too," Bridget whispered. 

Franky didn't say anything, just bore her eyes into Bridget's with such an intensity that she thought it might break her. 

Bridget suddenly felt Franky's body on top of her, pressing her back into the soft cushion of the couch. She felt a warmth spread through her, as if the heat from Franky's body was transferring to her own. 

Bridget shivered, feeling Franky's hot breath at the sensitive spot on neck right below her earlobe.

"I'm yours," Franky whispered, sending another involuntary chill up Bridget's spine. 

Franky nipped her teeth gently at Bridget's neck, and Bridget sighed and closed her eyes. 

"I'm yours," Franky soothed her tongue over the newly tender skin. 

"I'm yours," she repeated over as she trailed kissed down Bridget's neck. 

Bridget let out a small whimper, feeling the muscles in her abdomen clench with arousal. 

"So why don't you fuck me like I'm yours and show 'em? Show them all I'm yours. The next time someone looks at me I want them to know I'm yours, Bridget." 

Bridget's eyes glazed over and her core swelled at Franky's words. She placed her palms on Franky's shoulders and pushed, flipping her over so that Franky was laying flat on her back on the couch. Bridget hovered above her, holding Franky's waist in place between her knees. 

 "I love you," Bridget breathed before bent down as she attacked Franky's neck in kisses, returning the same glorious assault that Franky had ravaged her with just a moment ago. 

Bridget bit down on her sensitive flesh and Franky growled, her voice coming out thick and low. 

"Yes, fuck, show them." 

Bridget needed no further direction, and spent the next hour doing exactly that.

***

Bridget woke up from a light sleep in the middle of the night shivering. The blankets had been thrown from the bed and she was completely naked. 

Bridget couldn't even remember what time they eventually crawled into bed and nodded off. She turned over to see Franky lying on her back, fully exposed, with one hand outstretched towards Bridget and the other above her head. The moonlight was bright and streaming through the window, and Bridget could faintly make out the marks of a few hickeys that trailed up the side of Franky's breasts to her neck. 

She smiled to herself, thinking it was probably a good thing that the forecast for the upcoming week was calling for colder weather. Franky might need to invest in some turtlenecks. 


	15. Not Her Mother's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing Bridget interact with Tess for the first time prompts Franky to address a deep-seated fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the bit of the delay! Hope everyone has a great week :)

Small, high-pitched shrieks of laughter filled the green acres of the park. It was a gorgeous day out; the sun was shining but the humidity wasn't overbearing, and a slight breeze rustled the trees. It was the kind of day that reminded Franky to never take her freedom for granted. 

"Fraaanky!" 

Franky turned her head in the direction of the now familiar little voice. 

It had been about a month since Franky ultimately decided that she didn’t want fear to keep her from having a relationship with her newfound little sister. The old Franky would have bolted long before her dad had the chance to break her heart again. She was still fucking terrified that he would walk away, leaving her in not just the absence of one family member, but two this time. But she wasn't a child anymore. And, as she felt the gentle, discreet touch on her back from the woman standing next to her, she was reminded that no matter what happened, she wouldn't be alone. 

Tess continued to squeal and wave her hand excitedly from her spot at the top of the big blue slide, and Franky flashed her a huge grin and returned the gesture.

Franky caught the tentative smiling gaze of her father, who was sitting on the nearest bench to where Tess was playing. 

"Ya sure you're ready to meet the fam? Last chance to run for the hills," Franky teased, and then added a quieter "I would." 

Bridget arched her eyebrows and pursed her lips, shooting Franky the look that said _I know you're deflecting your feelings_.

Franky both loved and hated that look. That's what she got for falling for a psych. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Bridget reassured as she squeezed the small of Franky's back one last time, and spread a welcoming smile across her face as they approached the slide. Alan Doyle stood up from the bench, smiling and wringing his hands together. 

"Hiya Dad," Franky smiled, raising her hand in a slight wave before she crossed her arms.

There was still awkwardness present in their meetings; Franky wasn't quite ready to let her guard down. And Alan was still walking on eggshells around her, clearly worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. Like it or not, Franky had to give him some credit for his effort. 

"This is my girlfriend, Bridget," Franky quickly added. 

"Hi Alan. It's nice to meet you," Bridget held her warm smile and stuck her hand out for Alan to shake. 

"Likewise. Franky's told me a bit about you and I've only heard wonderful things." 

Franky involuntarily blushed and tightened her arms around her chest. This was weird as hell. It felt so bloody _normal_ , introducing her girlfriend to her dad. Except it wasn’t. She was just glad that they could all be in a public, non-claustrophobic space without having to worry about anyone spying on them that shouldn’t be; her dad lived with Tess about a forty-five minutes from the city, so the chances were slim.

"Franky! Watch me slide down!" Tess yelled from the top when it was her turn. 

"I'm watching!" Franky called back as she walked over and crouched at the bottom of the slide. 

Tess squealed with delight as she slid down the slide. When she got to the bottom, Franky caught her and lifted her into the air. 

"Hi nugget," Franky smiled. 

"Hi Franky!" Tess put her small hands on either side of Franky's face. 

Franky carried her the few feet over to where Bridget and Alan were looking on. 

"Listen, I have someone I want you to meet. Remember how I said I was going to bring my friend with me next time? Well, this is Bridget." 

Bridget leaned over a bit so she was eye level with Tess, who was hanging onto Franky's shoulder. 

"Hi Tess, I'm so happy to meet you." 

"Hi," Tess offered Bridget a shy smile. 

Tess scrunched her face like she was thinking hard about something, and then suddenly asked, "Do you like to play on the playground, like Franky?" 

"Well of course I do!" Bridget exclaimed.

Tess's eyes widened. "Can I show you how I do the monkey bars?" 

"Yes, I would love to see!" Bridget matched her voice to the little girl's excitement. 

"Yay!" Tess climbed down from Franky's arms and put her hand out for Bridget to take. 

Franky watched with an amused smile as the two walked hand-in-hand over to the monkey bars. 

Alan cleared his throat. "Tess is the best judge of character, so Bridget really must be great." 

"She's the best person I know," Franky replied honestly. 

Alan and Franky both looked on as Bridget lifted Tess up to reach the monkey bars, keeping a tight grasp on her waist as Tess extended her arms and made her way across the structure. When she reached the last bar, Bridget set her back on the ground and cheered, telling her what a great job she did. 

Franky marveled at the seamless and natural way that Bridget interacted with Tess, and realized that she had no idea what kind of experience Gidge had with kids. Did she want to have her own? _Shit_. 

Alan interrupted Franky's thoughts before she had the chance to spiral. 

"Tess was so excited to see you today, Franky. All she kept asking was 'how many hours until Franky? When can we go see Franky?'" 

Franky smiled. "Well, the feeling is mutual. She's a really great kid." 

Alan nodded and opened his mouth, but then paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

"I can't thank you enough, Franky, for letting me back into your life. I uh... I know I don't deserve it, and all those things you said to me back when I visited you at Wentworth, they were all true. You were right-" 

Franky interrupted him.

"No, stop. Listen. Those things I said to ya? They were coming from a very angry place, and..." 

Franky took a breath. 

"I've worked really hard to get away from that place. That doesn't mean I'm ready to be all hunky-dory and pretend we're some kind of perfect family, okay? I'm not there yet. And honestly? I don't know if I ever will be,” Franky frowned and shook her head.

“But I'm sorry for the things I said to ya. I do know that I want to have a relationship with Tess, and..." 

Franky looked Alan in the eye. 

"Thank you. Thank you for finding me and telling me about my sister." 

Franky could swear she saw the outline of a tear in her dad's eye, but then she blinked and it was gone. 

Franky turned her gaze away from Alan’s and exhaled some light raspberries. "Let's go see what those two are up to, yeah?" 

Franky headed over to where Bridget was pushing Tess on a swing. 

"Oi, my two favorite girls, what a surprise!" 

Tess thought that was a hilarious thing to say and broke out into a fit of giggles as she swung back and forth. 

"We've been here the whole time, Franky!" 

Franky furrowed her brow in mock confusion. "Oh, you have?" 

Tess laughed even harder. 

"Everything okay?" Bridget asked softly. 

"Yep, all good," Franky offered a reassuring smile. 

"Franky let's do tumbles, like last time!" Tess said suddenly. 

"Okay, let's do it!" Franky exclaimed as she lifted her sister from the swing. 

"Dad enrolled her in a toddler gymnastics class," Franky explained to Bridget. 

"Ah, very cool, Tess! Do you like gymnastics?" 

Tess nodded her head excitedly. 

"Me, too," Bridget smiled at her, a little gleam present in her eye. 

Bridget looked genuinely very excited and Franky wondered if Gidge really did like gymnastics. She hadn't mentioned it before. 

"Okay, Daddy and Bridget, you sit over there on the grass and me and Franky will do a tumble show!" 

"Oh, I am very excited for this," Bridget chuckled as she sat down on the ground next to Alan. 

Alan laughed with her. "You should have seen the two of them last week, rolling around on the grass for at least a half hour." 

"Yeah I've been practicing, Gidge. Prepare to be amazed," Franky winked. 

"Ready, set, go!" Tess yelled as she raised her hands in the air and tucked her body. 

Franky proceeded to summersault next to her sister, keeping half an eye out to make sure Tess didn't get her body too far off track and end up knocking into a nearby tree. When they stood up, Franky took Tess's hand and they bowed while Bridget and Alan clapped and cheered. 

The beam on Tess's proud face almost made Franky's heart burst. As she looked down at her baby sister, the cheers from their two personal spectators seemed to get farther and farther away, and the scene in front of her panned out in slow motion, as if she were in a dream. She thought for sure she must be. Franky Doyle, playing in the park with her girlfriend, dad, and sister on a warm sunny day? Yep. Sounded like a fucking fairytale. 

Soft fingers pressing into her forearm brought her back to the present. 

"Hey, where'd you go there, babe? You look a bit dazed," Bridget inquired with a furrowed brow. 

Franky shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. "Ah, nowhere- sorry, just thinking." 

Bridget nodded and her expression of concern slowly dissipated. 

"Did you hear what Tess said? She wants to learn how to do a cartwheel, I told her I would show her." 

"Huh? You can do a cartwheel?" 

Bridget scoffed but couldn't hide her smile. "I'm not that ancient, babe! My body isn't decaying just yet." 

Franky narrowed her eyes. "Ya know what I mean!" 

"Well, the years of gymnastics lessons when I was younger and the current yoga definitely help," Bridget said as she started to walk a few feet away to give herself some room. 

"You did gymnastics? You never told me that!" Franky called after her. 

Bridget just winked back at Franky as she prepared her stance. 

"Okay, ready Tess? See, your right arm goes up like this and..." 

Franky zoned out again on the conversation in front of her. She should have known Gidge used to be a gymnast; the woman was certainly flexible, that was for sure. She watched as Bridget pushed her body off the ground with her hands and then landed gracefully upright. She looked so fucking cute in her tan twill shorts and white t-shirt, with her hair tied back into a loose ponytail. As Bridget began to help Tess put herself in position, Franky realized that the scene in front of her was one she wanted to see over and over again. If this was in fact a dream, she never wanted to fucking wake up. 

***

The setting sun reflected off of the half-empty wine glass in Franky's hand as she gazed at the distant horizon line. After the hours spent in the park, the two women were exhausted and the lounge chairs on Bridget's front porch were calling their names. 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Franky blinked and turned towards Bridget, who had almost polished her own glass off and was resting her bare feet in Franky's lap. 

"Hmm?" 

"Lost you there for a minute again," Bridget said. 

Franky took a breath as she tied her hair up into a high ponytail. 

"Nah, I was just thinking about you and Tess actually. How you were with her today. She was totally head over heels in love with ya, Gidge." 

Bridget hummed as she arched her eyebrows. "Oh good, my master plan worked, then." 

Franky playfully smacked her leg. "I'm serious! You're such a natural with kids. I had no idea."

"Well so are you, babe. You know, I felt like I could have stayed at that park all day, just to see that light in your eyes while you were running around with Tess." 

Franky shook her head and scoffed lightly. 

"I'm not joking, Franky," Bridget said as she sat up and removed her legs from her girlfriend’s lap. She leaned over to place a hand on Franky's knee. 

Franky bit her lip and looked back out towards the sky. Her mind kept flashing back to the park, and Bridget teaching Tess how to do a cartwheel, and how happy they both looked. 

"What is it, baby? What's wrong?" Bridget furrowed her brow in concern. 

Franky knew she needed to just spit it out. If for no other reason than for her own sanity. 

"Have you ever wanted to have your own kids, Gidge?" 

Bridget's eyes went slightly wide and she cocked her head. 

"You can be honest," Franky added, biting her lip again. 

"I know, it's not that- you just took me a bit off guard, that's all." 

Bridget took a breath. 

"Having kids was never something I knew I needed to be happy, no, if that's what you're asking. I've never felt like something was missing or anything like that. But that's not to say I would be opposed to having them, per-say. I always thought that if the right situation presented itself, then maybe." 

Franky let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Okay, so it wasn't a deal breaker. Good to know. 

"Any little nugget would be so lucky to have you for a mom, Gidge,” Franky said softly.

Bridget offered her a gentle smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. 

"Yeah? Well ditto, babe." 

Franky almost choked on the wine she just took a sip of. She couldn't have heard her right. That, or Bridget was uncharacteristically drunk off of two glasses of wine. 

Franky frowned and vigorously shook her head. "Nah. No way. I'd be such a shit mom, are you kidding?" 

"No, Franky, I'm not kidding." 

Bridget spoke with such conviction, like she truly believed what she was saying. Maybe that whole 'love is blind' thing was true, Franky thought to herself. Gidge really didn't get it, did she? 

"I can't be responsible for another person, Bridget! Especially an innocent one." Franky's voice came out rushed and high, and she threw her head back and exhaled a strong breath in an attempt to keep unwelcome tears from falling. 

Bridget put her wine glass down and took both of Franky's hands in her own. 

"Franky, baby. It is one thousand percent okay that you don't want children. You know that right? But you would not be a 'shit mom', and I hate that you think that. You have such a natural, empathetic disposition, and so much love in your heart." 

Franky squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to focus on Bridget's voice instead of the one inside her head. 

_You know, Francesca, I used to be so happy before you came along. But you turned my life to shit. Stop crying! You deserve to be punished, it's your fucking fault!_

"You are not your mother, Franky." 

Franky's eyes shot open. Had she been thinking out loud? Bridget hadn't brought up Franky's mother on her own accord since their last session together in Wentworth. She reckoned that Gidge was trying to give her the space she needed, and wanted to replace the psychologist boundaries with the girlfriend ones. She found other ways to comfort Franky. Like the way she kissed her way down the old cigarette burns on her stomach the first time she saw them, or the way she held her after a nightmare and stroked her hair until she fell back asleep.

Bridget placed her hands on either side of Franky's face. 

"Listen to me. You're nothing like her, okay? Nothing. Your mother was sadistic, and cold, and sick, and you inherited nothing of that, do you hear me? Look at all the shit you've been through. If you had even an ounce of your mother in you, Franky, you would still be in Wentworth. We wouldn't be sitting here. You wouldn't be on your way to a fucking law degree, and you certainly wouldn't have just ran around the park with your baby sister, tumbling down hills and showering her in love and affection." 

Franky took a shuddering breath. "But what if having a kid flips that switch? What if that's all I need to turn into her? She used to say that, you know. That I made her hit me and burn me and do lines of coke all day.”

Franky's voice cracked, and Bridget pulled her onto her lap and into her arms, and that was all Franky needed to fully break down. Franky's body shook as it was wracked with sobs. She wept for that scared little girl. She wept from the exhaustion of finally admitting a fear she buried so deep, she almost forgot it was there.

Franky had been terrified all her life that her mother was who she really was- that the anger that used to fuel her was only the tip of the iceberg. 

Bridget continued to rock Franky as she stroked the hair from her damp eyes. 

"There's no switch, baby. I promise. You are you and no one else. You are the wonderful, amazing woman who has worked so goddamn hard to get where you are. Every single thing that your mother ever said to you was a lie. You never did anything wrong. _Never._ ”

Bridget brought her lips to Franky’s forehead.

“And if you don't want to be a mom, Franky, that's more than okay. You’re all I need, you know that, right? But if you ever change your mind, then we can just revisit this conversation somewhere down the line. Well, maybe if that's the case, preferably before I really do turn ancient,” Bridget quipped. 

Franky chuckled lightly and wiped her eyes. 

"I used to be scared to even be around kids, Gidge. I couldn't get too close to 'em, ya know? What if I did something?”

Franky paused and shifted in Bridget’s embrace.

“One of the women in my unit had a daughter with her, her name was Kaya. She was about five years old or so. This was a couple years before you got there. I never paid her any attention, and same with Dors’ kid when he came along. I had never even held a baby until that fire." 

Franky grimaced and crinkled her nose.

"I didn't think I could go through with it, meeting Tess that first day. I saw her out there on the swings with my dad- she looked so carefree. And I just watched them for a second, and thought 'nah, I don't belong here.' But then my dad saw me, and he brought Tess over, and she took my hands and she was just...so happy. And she made me happy, too." 

Bridget removed her hand from around Franky's so that she could wipe the corner of her own eye. She grabbed Franky's face, brushing her thumbs along her temples. 

"I'm so proud of you." Bridget's voice came out in a whisper but her tone was strong. 

"You know your sister already loves you, right?" 

Franky let out a deep breath and wiped her own eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. 

"You reckon?" 

"I more than reckon, baby. It was evident to me the second that little girl laid eyes on you today." 

Franky's smile reached her eyes, and she looked back out towards the sky. 

Franky knew she already loved Tess, too. And that seemed insane, given her avoidance history with children and that she didn't even know the kid existed until three months ago.

Franky couldn't think about all of this anymore; she was tired of feeling the swelling in both her eyes and her heart. 

"Ya know Gidge, I'm glad we've had this talk, but we still haven't discussed the most important thing," Franky smirked, a twinkle present in her eye. 

"Oh? And what's that?" Bridget furrowed her eyebrows. 

"Your secret hidden gymnast talents! What gives, Spunky? All those crazy positions you can get that hot bod of yours into totally make sense now," Franky smiled widely and stuck her tongue out between her teeth. 

Bridget just shook her head but Franky noticed the slight shade of pink creeping into her cheeks. 

"Well, can't give out all of my secrets right away," the blonde smiled. 

Franky picked up her wine glass again and downed the last sip. 

"Eh, don't worry, Gidge. I'll figure 'em all out eventually. We've got time," she winked. 

Bridget narrowed her eyes, still smiling, and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on Franky's lips. 

"That we do, baby. That we do." 


	16. Fuck the Labels, Screw the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget decides that she and Franky deserve a night out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA first date out in the city with some first public dance moves... And the sorely missing on-screen convo about Franky's visit with Bea ;) 
> 
> As I was editing this chapter I realized that I have officially written over 100 pages of this sucker, and I would just like to thank everyone again for reading as well as all of your feedback (your kudos and comments absolutely make my day as well as seriously motivate me to continue!). Thank you, thank you!

There was something about knowing that Franky was back inside of these walls-a mere two-minute walk away from her office-that prevented Bridget from concentrating on the case study in front of her. 

She hoped her plan worked. She couldn't get through to Bea and none of the girls were having any luck either it seemed. Bridget was genuinely worried about her. Bea's shell-shocked depressive state was quite a normal reaction to an extremely traumatic near-death experience, but Bridget had a feeling there was something else going on. Or someone. 

She distracted herself by scrolling through her personal inbox, and a promotional email from a bar she used to frequent in the city caught her eye. Evidently, one of her favorite local bands was doing a set there tonight and there were still tickets available. 

Bridget stared at the email and tapped her foot underneath her desk, before muttering a slightly audible " _fuck it_ ". She deserved to be able to take her girlfriend out to damn bar concert and not have to worry, god damnit.

She brought up her text thread with Franky and quickly typed out a message before she could change her mind. 

_How would you feel about breaking the rules a bit and heading downtown to see a band after work?_

Twenty minutes later, Bridget's phone buzzed on top of her desk.

_Are you asking me out? Bit forward, Ms. Westfall!_

Bridget smirked at her screen. 

_Well, I was, but I could always ask somebody else..._

Her phone vibrated again almost immediately.

_Nah, no need, I think I can pencil you in ;). Shoot me the info and I'll meet ya there, Spunky._

Bridget smiled as she sent Franky the link. She hoped that Franky's playful texts indicated that her visit with Bea went well. She was itching to find out some details, but she could wait. She had a hot date in a few hours and a pile of reports on her desk that needed to get done before that. Bridget sighed as she put her phone back in her desk and buckled down. 

*** 

The corners of Bridget's mouth turned up when she spotted the tall brunette walk into the dimly lit bar. She was still dressed in her black jeans and red shirt with her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She looked beautiful, as per usual, and a group of thirty-something guys sitting by the door seemed to take note as well. If Franky noticed the ogling, she didn't let it show, instead winking and pointing to Bridget when she saw her across the room- as if to say _ah, there's my girl._

"Hiya gorgeous," Franky greeted Bridget as she slid next to her in the booth. 

"Hi yourself," Bridget beamed. 

Franky brought her face within an inch of Bridget's before pulling back, just barely missing Bridget's descending lips. 

"No rules tonight, for real?" 

"Well, short of undressing each other on the dance floor, yeah, I think we deserve it. Screw ‘em," Bridget said before finally closing the space between their lips. 

"Well, damn Gidge. Was really looking forward to some good ole' fashioned exhibitionism, too."

Bridget playfully pinched the side of her waist, causing Franky to yelp before she swatted Bridget's hand away and linked their fingers together in the process. 

"This place is ace, I've never been," Franky said before taking a sip of the beer Bridget had ordered for her. 

"Yeah, I used to come here all the time after work with friends. The bands they host are always gems."

Franky just pressed her lips together and smiled at Bridget. 

"What?" Bridget cocked her head. 

"Nothin'." 

Franky paused and gave Bridget's hand a squeeze. "Thanks for asking me out". 

Bridget didn't reply, just leaned over and kissed her again, this time letting her lips linger for an extra beat. 

"So how was your day?" Bridget asked as she pulled away. 

She tried to pose the question as innocently as possible, but Franky saw right through her. 

"Ah, you mean, was 'Mission: Get Bea Out of Bed and Back to Her Throne' a success? Yeah, it went well. You were right- she was in a bad spot. She didn't look like herself, that's for sure. I mean, I don't fucking blame her." 

Franky fingered her beer glass and frowned.

"She cried when she saw me, Gidge. She's exhausted. I mean, I know that exhaustion, I've been there." 

"I know," Bridget nodded, even though she understood that she never truly would.  

Franky paused as she bit down on the inside of her lip and scrunched her nose. Bridget could see the smile peaking out underneath her concealed expression, and knew immediately what was coming next. 

"There's somethin' else, though, but you have to swear not to say anything, Gidge, to anyone." 

"Of course I won't, but you don't have to tell-" 

"Miss Queen Bea let someone into her pants! I mean, more than that though- she was head-over-heels in love with the girl, whoever she is. This chick broke her heart, though. You were right, when ya said you thought there was something else going on." 

Franky took a swig of her beer and continued, "She'll be okay though. She's tough, and ya know, some other girl'll come along and maybe the poor woman can find some happiness in that concrete hellhole. Something to distract her from the fact that she's never going to see anything else besides those sterile walls for the rest of her life."  

A twinkle flashed in Franky's eyes as she crossed her arms and leaned back in the booth. 

"Jesus, I totally knew it, too. You know how good my gaydar is. I called it from the moment she walked into H block three years ago."

"Mmm," Bridget agreed, a slight, closed-lip smile present across her features. 

"What? You don't seem all that surprised by this juicy info, Gidge- thought ya would eat this up!" 

Bridget decided it was best just to come clean at this point. 

She sighed. "I knew."

Franky's jaw dropped slightly and she narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean you knew?" 

"Bea scheduled herself a session last week. She was... having a bit of an identity crisis. My take is this was prior to the heart-breaking."

Franky's mouth fully hung open and Bridget thought her eyes were going to bulge out her head. 

"Noooo fucking way!" 

"Well, I know for a fact that she wouldn't have come to see me if she didn't already know that I dated women."

Bridget eyed Franky and arched her eyebrows, begging the question _'I wonder how on earth she knows that?'_

Franky ignored Bridget's glare, her eyes still wide on her disbelieving face. "Well what did you tell her?" 

Bridget took a sip of her white Pinot. "I told her that a ton of women romantically fall for another woman after previously being exclusively with men. That she should fuck the labels and just go with it." 

Franky broke into a huge grin and clicked her tongue. "Have I told you recently how good you are at your job?" 

Bridget mirrored Franky's expression and just shook her head again. 

"Fuck, I can't believe you didn't tell me this, Gidge." 

"Sorry babe, it was confidential, you know that. I won't lie though- I was dying to, believe me!" 

Franky huffed. 

Bridget furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes became soft. "You were okay today though? Being back inside Wentworth?" 

"Well I didn't miss the strip searches, if that's what you're asking. But yeah, I was fine. It was weird though. I felt like the guard should have been escorting me back to my cell along with Red." 

Bridget nodded and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, baby." 

"You don't have to thank me. I'm glad I went."

Franky took a deep breath and exhaled. "Okay, enough Wentworth talk. I'm on a hot date with a hot girl and this is an occasion that deserves to fully celebrated, goddammit." 

As if on cue, the server came over to take their orders, letting them know that the band would be taking the stage in a few minutes. 

By now, the bar looked to be nearly filled to capacity, and Bridget was glad she arrived early enough to snag the roomy booth. 

"Wow, looks like more people than I thought share your love for 80's look-alike cover bands, Gidge," Franky ribbed. 

Bridget scoffed. "I beg your pardon Franky Doyle, they are not a cover band." 

"Oh, so they just happen to look like someone pulled U2 from a stage in 1985 and plopped them here?" Franky winked and stuck her tongue between her teeth. 

Before Bridget could retort, the lights dimmed even further and the band made their way to the stage. 

Franky put her arm around Bridget's neck and leaned into ear. "I'm messin with ya, Gidge. I'm excited." 

Bridget smiled and patted Franky's knee. She knew that. Franky loved music, all types of music; Bridget didn't think there was a type or genre that she hadn't caught Franky humming along to. Bridget herself wasn't nearly as versatile in that department as her girlfriend. Although her tastes had grown thanks to Franky in the last six months, she was still a sucker for good old fashioned 80's pop and rock, plain and simple. 

The band was just as good as Bridget remembered. After she finished her dinner, she leaned back in Franky's arms and sipped her Pinot, letting the music wash over her. She could have easily spent all night like that, she was admittedly exhausted- but Franky had other ideas. 

"Come on Gidge, a spot just opened up on the floor." 

Franky jumped out of the booth and pulled Bridget up with her, tugging her towards the open floor near the stage. 

After snaking through the crowd, Franky wrapped her arms around Bridget's waist and took the lead, moving them rhythmically to the fast-paced beat of the music. Bridget slung her right arm over Franky's shoulder and settled into her body. 

As Franky pulled Bridget's hip tight against her thigh and threw her head back with a smile of sheer abandonment, Bridget mused that watching Franky dance might just be her favorite thing in the whole world. It had been since their second night together. She still remembered the shiver that shot up her spine as they laid half naked on the living room floor, sweaty and spent, when Franky crawled back on top of her and whispered into her ear. 

_I want to dance with you._

Since then, they had spent countless nights twirling each other around in the privacy of the living room, but never in a space like this. A space like this, in public, with music so loud they could feel the vibrations pumping in their chests, and a hundred other sweaty bodies surrounding them. Bridget thought it might feel different- dancing in public. But she was wrong. She still felt the electricity in Franky's fingertips, still felt her stomach flip as she watched the effortless movement of Franky's rotating hips. Still felt like they were the only ones in the whole goddamn room. 

The music slowed, the beginning notes of a familiar ballad falling over the crowd, and Bridget looped her arms around Franky's neck. 

"Come'ere, you," Bridget spoke for the first time since being whisked to the floor. 

Franky smiled down at Bridget and trailed her hands down the length of her back, stopping to rest just above the swell of her arse. Bridget relaxed her body, resting her head in the crook of Franky's neck as they swayed gently to the softer music. 

The song was nearly over when Franky tipped Bridget's chin up and placed a full kiss on her lips. 

"Could do this forever," Franky sighed softly as she tucked Bridget's head back against her chest. 

Bridget wasn't sure which "this" Franky was referring to, but whatever it was, she knew she wanted to do it forever, too. 


	17. Blurred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky's never seen Bridget drunk before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place directly after 4.10 
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read, have a wonderful week everyone!

_ Shane, whose place is this?  _

_ It's okay, it's a freebie. My godmother, Joan, she said I can stay here whenever I want. _

Franky shivered as she stepped out of the shower, but the cold rush of air that hit her body had little to do with it. She was hoping the hot water would ease some of the tension that had lodged itself at the base of her neck ever since walking out of that fancy apartment. Joan the Fucking Freak Ferguson's fancy apartment. She tugged the bath towel tighter around her body in an attempt to quell the next shiver.

This wasn't that big of a deal, right? She was just helping some kid stay out of the system. Franky pulled Bridget's uni t-shirt over her head and flopped onto the bed with a groan. If it wasn't that big of a deal, why did she all of the sudden feel like she was walking into a lion's den?

Because she  _ had _ walked into the lion's den today. Fuck.

She needed to talk to Bridget. She didn't want to tell her about Shane over the phone though, and Bridget was out for the night with Vera. Frankly, she still had a hard time imagining Vera doing anything else but patrolling the sterile halls of Wentworth, but hey, what did she know?

Franky's phone buzzed loudly on her nightstand, and she smiled at the face on her screen as she brought the phone to her ear.

"Must be my lucky night, was just hoping a hot, spunky blonde would call."

"Um, hello, Franky?"

_ The fuck _ ? Franky creased her brow.

"Vera? Where's Bridget? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, yup, Bridget is fine, don't worry!"

Franky could barely make out Vera's words among the loud music playing in the background, but her voice sounded weird as hell- higher pitched and less... restrained. Holy fuck. She was talking to a drunk Vera Bennett.

Vera continued, "Yeah, um I'm just calling because- and I hope you don't mind that I'm calling, I just thought that I should, since I know about-"

As much as she was enjoying listening to Vera fumble over her words, Franky didn't have time for this.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine- what's the problem, Vera? Where's Bridget?"

"Oh! She's right here but she didn't want to call you, but I said she should."

Franky took a deep breath and exhaled. She was starting the put the pieces together.

"Vera, can you just put Bridget on?"

Vera seemed to ignore her request as her voice came out even higher and rushed than before.

"Do you think that you could come pick Bridget up? She's had a lot to drink and-"

Vera giggled. 

Now there was a sound Franky never thought she would hear. She had no idea what was so funny though.

"Yeah, Vera? I'll be right there. Just stay-"

"Frannky!" Bridget's voice suddenly shrilled through the phone.

"Hey, Gidge, I'm going to come pick you up, I'll be there in ten, okay?" Franky shoved the phone between her neck and her ear, shrugging on the jeans that were previously crumpled on the floor.

"Nooooo, baby! You don' need to. It's all good, m' good! Just gonna cab it."

Franky couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Gidge was obviously plastered. She had seen her tipsy before, sure, but never full-on drunk.

Franky haphazardly attempted to put her bra and the now crinkled shirt she had worn that day on with one hand as she juggled the phone in her other.

"Nah, Gidge, listen to me, okay? I'm coming to get you. Promise me you'll stay put."

"Okaaaay, promise. I lov'you."

Franky smiled. "I love you too, see you soon. Hang tight."

After Franky managed to get the address of the bar out of Bridget, she hung up the phone and threw her hair- still wet from her shower- up in a messy pony tail. She grabbed her keys and bag, rushing out the door. Looked she was going to see her girl tonight after all.

***

Franky entered the loud, smoky bar wondering how on earth she was going to find them. She could barely see two feet in front of her. 

Luckily, she didn't have to, as she suddenly felt a hand grab her wrist. It wasn't Bridget's though.

"She's over here," Vera screamed above the noise and gestured over towards the front of the bar.

Who the hell was this and what did Gidge do with her former tight-ass governor?

Franky took in Vera's appearance. She was dressed modestly, in jeans and a snug white t-shirt, and her frizzy hair flowed freely over her shoulders. Franky realized she had half expected to see Vera still in her pristine uniform, with her hair slicked back into that tight bun she always wore.

When they finally got to Bridget, the blonde immediately flung her arms around Franky's waist from the barstool she was perched on.

"Hiii, baby. You dint' have to come," Bridget slurred. She pulled Franky's face down and planted a full kiss on her lips.

Out of the corner of her eye Franky saw Vera bring her hand to the back of her neck and advert her eyes. On any other occasion, Franky would have relished in Vera's embarrassment, but at the present moment she was just primarily concerned with getting Bridget home safely.

"Come on, Spunky, let's go home, yeah?"

Bridget nodded, and Franky held her hands out for Bridget to take. She stumbled a bit as she rose from the bar stool, and Franky slung her arm across her back for support.

They eventually made their way outside, Vera trailing closely behind them, and Franky opened the car door and helped Bridget climb into the passenger seat.

Franky turned to Vera, who was awkwardly standing next to the car with her arms crossed and biting her lower lip.

Franky sighed. Being on the outside must have made her softer than she realized. She gestured from Vera to the car's rear door.

"Oi, climb in, I'll drive you home first. Just punch your address in-"

Vera's eyes went wide. "Oh, no, no, no, um, that's okay, Franky."

Franky rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna drive us off a cliff for god's sake. And I promise I won't tell anyone that Franky Doyle had to drive your drunk ass home," Franky quipped with a closed, tight-lipped smile.

Vera creased her brow as she stepped towards the car. "Well, okay, if you're sure-"

Franky heaved another sigh. "Jesus, I'm sure, just get in, will ya?"

Vera finally got in the backseat and Franky shut the door after her. As she climbed behind the wheel and started the ignition, Bridget, who Franky previously thought had dozed off, stirred.

"Are you being nice?" Bridget murmured, with her eyes still closed and head resting against the window.

Franky smirked. Bridget, even in her most incapacitated form, was conscious of her interactions with Vera. Of course.

Franky leaned over and kissed Bridget's cheek before putting the car in reverse.

"I'm always nice."

Franky pulled out of the bar's car park, choosing to very  _ nicely _ ignore the bubbly snort that came from the backseat.

***

Vera seemed to somehow sober up ten-fold during the short fifteen minute drive to her house. Before making her way to her front door, Vera paused by Franky's window and craned her head downward so that they were eye level.

"Um, thanks again for the ride, Franky," Vera said as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"No sweat, Veers," Franky winked, and Vera narrowed her eyes slightly at the new nickname.

"Thanks for calling me, by the way. I really appreciate it," Franky gestured towards Bridget, who had fallen asleep next to her.

Vera nodded. "Yeah, about that... you're not going to... mention this to-"

Franky cut her off and shook her head. "Nah. Don't worry, your secret night out is safe with me."

Franky cocked her head and stuck her tongue out slightly.

"Although, I must say. I'm kinda impressed, Miss. Bennet," Franky winked. "Did ya meet any hotties on the dance floor, tonight?"

A shade of pink creeped up Vera's neck and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, goodnight, Franky," Vera said as she turned away from the car.

"Wait, Vera."

Vera turned back around and looked at Franky.

"I'm glad you and Gidge went out tonight. She's been crazy stressed so I'm sure you've been too. Can't be easy. Looks like you two had some fun."

Vera's eyes widened subtly and her face softened, clearly taken aback by Franky's sincerity. She nodded curtly.

"Yeah, me too. We had a good time."

Franky smiled. "Good. Night, Vera," she added, before putting the car back in drive and pulling down the driveway.

***

It was close to midnight by the time Franky got Bridget into the bedroom, a process that had taken almost a half hour from the time they pulled up the driveway. Apparently, a heavily intoxicated Bridget Westfall was also a very stubborn Bridget Westfall. 

Bridget also hadn't stopped talking since they got back to the house. Franky had assumed from her nearly passed-out state in the car that she would barely be able to get a few more words out of her, but Gidge had evidently gotten quite the second wind.

"I really like you in this room," Bridget drawled, as she stumbled to the edge of the bed and laid down on top of the covers.

"And this bed," she added. "You're so fucking sexy, Franky Doyle."

Franky smiled at her over her shoulder from the dresser as she dug out one of Bridget's sleep t-shirts, as well a pair of her own underwear that Bridget had previously commandeered.

"Back atcha, gorgeous."

Franky walked over to the bed and kneeled in front of Bridget to pull her heels off. (She had originally attempted this task when they got through the front door, but her efforts proved futile.)

"Never thought...would see you in this bed," Bridget mumbled above her, before suddenly propping herself up with her elbows to peer down at Franky.

"But you're here," Bridget whispered, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

Franky stood up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

How many times had she heard Bridget say those exact words to her?

Franky shook her thoughts and clapped her hands together. "Alright, babe, lift up."

Franky somehow managed to get most of Bridget's clothes off with little resistance. Bridget shivered as Franky tugged the soft, clean t-shirt over her head.

"You just wanted to see me naked, I think."

Franky smiled as she licked her lips and shimmied the underwear up Bridget's legs.

"I always wanna see ya naked, Gidge."

Franky lifted Bridget's body halfway so that she could pull the covers up and over her, and grabbed the half-empty water bottle off the nightstand.

"Babe, just take a couple sips of this for me, yeah?"

Bridget blinked her eyes slowly a few times before taking the bottle. Franky knew she was fading fast and was just glad she managed to get her into the bed. Bridget laid back down but managed to keep her eyes open and fixed on Franky, as she shrugged off her own clothes and threw another of Bridget's t-shirts over her head.

"You don'thav' to stay," Bridget softly slurred, although Franky wasn't sure if it was still from the alcohol or just plain exhaustion.

"Do you want me to?"

Bridget simply nodded against her pillow.

"Then I'm staying," Franky said as she crawled into the bed and wrapped her arms around Bridget.

They were usually pretty good at sticking to their "no sleepovers on weeknights" rule. After Franky had moved out, they quickly realized that unless they set specific boundaries, it was way too easy to give into temptation and just crawl into bed together after their frequent dinner dates. But there were always exceptions to the rules.

Bridget mumbled something incoherent into her pillow, but Franky thought she heard the words "embarrassed" and "fuck" thrown somewhere in there.

"What, Gidge?"

Bridget rolled over so that her body was open towards Franky, but kept her eyes closed with a hand placed against her forehead. Franky hoped she wasn't getting a headache, although that was probably inevitable.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Bridget mumbled.

Franky frowned. "What on earth are ya sorry for?"

Bridget scoffed. "I'm sure this's exactly what you had in mind to do tonight, pick up your drunk girlfriend and former governor."

Franky let out a small chuckle against Bridget.

"Well, I never thought I'd get to see Vera drunk, so that was a treat, I must say. I'm really glad that she called me, Gidge."

Franky bit her lip and paused, debating on continuing her thoughts, unsure of just how much Bridget had sobered up.

"Why didn't you want me to pick you up?" Franky asked gently.

Bridget stayed silent at first; her eyes were still closed and her breathing was becoming even, and Franky didn't think she was going to get an answer.

But then Bridget took a deep breath.  "Dunno, I was embarrassed I guess. You shouldn't have to... take care of me like this. I'm 43 for fuck's sake. I should be able to handle my liquor at a damn bar."

Franky involuntarily dropped her tense shoulders at Bridget's words. That was all?

Franky propped herself up on her elbow so that she could look at Bridget.

"Listen, Gidge, ya have nothing to be embarrassed about. I know how stressed you've been, yeah? Honestly I don't know how you do it everyday. And I'm glad you could blow off some steam tonight...Even if it was with Vera," Franky added with a teasing glint in her eye.

Bridget managed enough energy to narrow her eyes and gently pinch Franky's waist.

Franky jumped slightly and put her hands up in surrender, laughing.

"Alright, alright, no more Vera comments, I swear!"

Bridget just sighed and relaxed back into Franky's embrace.

Franky wrapped her arms back around Bridget's waist, sliding her hands under her shirt as she traced light circles along Bridget's stomach.

"And for the record, I always want to take care of ya," she whispered softly.

Bridget squeezed Franky's hand around her stomach. "Makes me sad," she mumbled, nearly succumbing to sleep.

The muscles in Franky's face twisted in confusion.

"What makes you sad, Gidge?"

"That no one else really knows how beautiful and kind you are."

Franky smiled sadly and whispered "I know," against Bridget's neck, even though she knew the blonde was already well on her way to dreamland.

Although Gidge hadn't verbalized it before, Franky knew it bothered her that most people didn't know Franky the way that she did. The stares and snickers people threw her way on the occasion that they recognized her. The hateful comments left on the videos from that damn show that were always circulating. It used to bother Franky, too- way more than she ever let on. That was undoubtedly part of the reason she found it that much easier to just shut down certain parts of herself at Wentworth.

But it didn't bother her so much anymore.

***

Early the next morning as Franky scribbled a note next to a sleeping Bridget, her mind wandered back to those people who only knew and judged her for her most violent parts. What would they think, she wondered, if they saw her late last night, as she held her girlfriend's hair back as she vomited into the toilet? As she helped her into the shower and washed her hair and gently scrubbed her body before tucking her back into bed? Would their opinions change?

It didn't matter. What did matter, however, was that Franky now had the ability to help people just like her from ever having these exact thoughts. She could help prevent them from making the same mistakes she did.

She could help Shane Butler. She knew she could.

Franky placed a gentle kiss on the top of Bridget's head, leaving some water, aspirin, and the note on the bedside table.

_ Morning gorgeous, _

_ I hope you are feeling better. Aspirin is on the table just in case. Made some chocolate pancakes, you'll just need to heat them up. _

_ I love ya, I'll call later. _

_ PS- I called Vera, told her you may not be in today. Get some rest ;)  _

_ \- F _


	18. The Price of Omission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in her life, Franky's nervous to talk to Bridget. And deep down she knows the reason why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the plan is to add more two chapters (after this one) to this bugger and then mark it as complete. I want to tie it up in a somewhat coherent manner before the start of season 5. That's definitely not to say that I won't reopen it (and probably will!) with some new season inspiration. 
> 
> There is also a prequel of sorts in the works, which will focus on their first couple of days together after Franky is released. ("First" central, haha) 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! I'm sure you'll be able to guess by the way it ends what's in chapter 19 ;)

Franky's stomach lurched as she rounded the corner and saw Bridget's car in the driveway. The exact opposite effect that Bridget's impending presence usually had on her. 

Franky put the car in park and absentmindedly brought her palm to the center of her forehead. Bridget wasn't supposed to be home for at least another two hours. Had she calculated wrong? No, the matinee Bridget was seeing in the city with Shannon wasn't even supposed to over yet. Why was she home already? 

She exhaled raspberries as she stretched her arms out, gripping the top of the steering wheel with both hands.

_Well it didn't fucking matter why Gidge was home, did it? It was her house, after all, for god's sake._

Franky took a deep breath and opened the car door, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she had been putting off for a week now. She walked into the open kitchen a minute later to see Bridget perched at the counter with her books and files spread next to her laptop. 

"Hey, you," Bridget beamed up at her. 

"Hey-ya," Franky replied, trying harder than she should have been to mirror her girlfriend's expression. 

Franky dropped her bag and keys on the table. "What happened to the play?" 

"One of Shan's kids got sick. We only made it halfway to the city before she got the call. It's fine, I purchased the extra insurance with the tickets, so we're going to take the rain check," Bridget explained as she closed her laptop. 

"Where were you off to? Decided not to stay in after all?" Bridget stood up and placed a peck on Franky's cheek before she walked over to the fridge and grabbed a glass of water. 

Franky felt the guilt permeate the back of her throat at the mention of the white lie she had told Bridget that morning. 

"Ah, yeah. I actually went to visit Bea again."

Bridget's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "You were at Wentworth?" 

Franky couldn't help herself. "Nah, we met at the beach, actually," she crossed her arms and winked at Bridget, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. 

Bridget cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "Ha, ha, very funny. Guess I walked right into that one." 

Bridget paused as she took a sip of her water. "Well how is she? I didn't realize you were planning on going back so soon, I'm sure Bea was thrilled to see you." 

"She was great, actually. It was like talking to a completely different person. Her and her girl are back on," Franky's mouth spread into a wide, genuine grin, her anxiety over the looming conversation momentarily disappearing. 

"Ah! I thought she looked like she had more of a bounce in her step when I passed her in the hallway yesterday," Bridget exclaimed. 

"I asked her if she tried the McMuff yet," Franky wagged her eyebrows. 

"Franky," Bridget narrowed her eyes and shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. 

"What! She hasn't, by the way. Won't take long though, I gave her some tips." 

"Franky!" Bridget hissed again as she put her hands to her ears for show. “No more details, please! It is so unbelievably inappropriate to be engaging with you in a conversation about Bea Smith’s sex life,” she groaned.

"Ah, come on!" 

Seeing that Bridget wasn't budging, Franky put her hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine."  

Franky felt a small pang in her stomach, as if her body was reminding her to just get the rest of the story on with. 

Franky took a deep breath. "Right so, there was another reason I visited Bea, besides the McMuff tips." 

Bridget nodded. "Oh?" 

Franky shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her green t-shirt. "Yeah, uh, last week? After our first visit, the next day Bea called me and asked for a bit of a favor." 

Bridget raised her eyes again and placed her glass of water on the counter. 

Franky paused and bit the inside of her lip before continuing. "Apparently Ferguson had gotten in contact with that girl Jianna's son, Shane. The one that got taken away as a baby. Well, turns out that this kid got himself into a bit of trouble, nothing major, but Bea thought he might have contacts at Walford. She thinks Ferguson wants to use Shane to take out Nils Jesper. He's visited her a couple times." 

Bridget put her hand to mouth in a slight grimace and turned sideways. Franky knew that look. The look that said _'I know where this is going and I hope to god I'm wrong'._

Franky took another deep breath. "So, I checked him out, and made it so his case could go through Legal Relief, and I've just been keeping tabs on him, making sure he stays out of Walford, that's all." 

Bridget looked back at her across the counter. 

"Franky, tell me you're not serious." 

"He's a good kid, he really is! I'm just doing for him what I would be doing for any kid just like him, it's no different. And ya know what? Turns out, Bea was right. The freak is usin' this kid, Gidge. Playin' him like a fucking fiddle. She's got him staying in her fancy ass apartment and everything!" 

Bridget sighed and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. 

"Oh, Franky, please, _please_ , tell me that you haven't been in that apartment."

Franky didn't answer, just eyed Bridget with a guilty expression as she bit her bottom lip. 

"Fucking hell, Franky," Bridget sighed under her breath. 

She put a hand on her hip and gestured into the air with her other.  "And so you've spent the last week doing what, exactly? Getting close to this kid, making him trust you, and then reporting back to Bea?" 

"I'm not telling her when the kid takes a shit, Gidge! Jesus. I told ya, it's just like any other kid I would help!" 

"But it's _not_ just any other kid! Do you know dangerous this is?" Bridget’s eyes bore holes into Franky’s, begging for some kind of answer.

But Franky didn't answer, just turned and shook her head, creasing her brow and crinkling her nose. 

"What if Ferguson finds out about this, hmm? All it would take is one mention of your name. What if she has cameras in her apartment? She probably does! And if she really is trying have Jesper killed, you think she's gonna think twice about doing the same to you?" 

"That's not gonna happen!" The level of Franky's voice went up an octave and she threw her hands into the air. 

Bridget scoffed. "And how can you be sure? But it's not only that, Franky! You could lose your job if this comes out, and everything you've worked so goddamn hard for. And to throw it all away for what? Hmm?" 

Bridget wasn't quite yelling, but even so, Franky had never seen her so upset. Part of her understood why, Franky knew deep down the risk she was taking, and that was exactly why she dragged her feet in telling Bridget. But it was worth it, wasn't it? Help a good kid stay out of prison and make sure Ferguson stayed exactly where she belonged- two birds with one stone. 

"I would think you would understand how important this is, Gidge! What was I supposed to tell Bea? 'Nope, sorry, I could help ya out, but you're just gonna have to figure this out for yourself. Stay safe, kisses!'? 

Bridget widened her eyes in disbelief but her brow stayed creased. "Yes, that's exactly what you should have told her!" 

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to help my friends, is that it? Only when it's convenient for you? When it suits you?"

Franky cringed inwardly and regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. 

Bridget crossed her arms and drew a short, sharp intake of breath, and Franky saw the hurt momentarily flash across her blue eyes. 

"You know what? You're right. This is my fault," she said softly. 

Before Franky could respond, Bridget's phone rang loudly from its place on the table. 

Franky glanced over. "It's your mum, you should answer.”

Bridget walked over to the table and grabbed her phone, shutting the ringer off. "No, it's fine. She calls every Saturday, I'm sure it's not important. She can wait." 

Franky sighed and looked back to Bridget. "I didn't mean what I just said, Gidge, and this is not your fault. Listen, okay? I know this is risky, but if I can help, isn't it worth it?" 

"Not if your life is the price, Franky, Jesus Fucking Christ. You know, it may be worth it to you, but did you ever stop to think, even for a second, that you wouldn't be the only person hurt if something happened to you?" 

Bridget's voice cracked and she wiped away the tear from her eye as soon as it formed. 

"That's why you lied this morning, isn't it? When I asked what your plans were? You knew you were going to visit Bea and you didn't want to tell me why." 

The beginnings of tears pooled in Franky's eyes and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. 

The stupid phone rang again. 

Bridget sighed. "My mum. I guess I should answer." 

Franky sat down at the table and let her shoulder slump. The pang in her gut was back and her body suddenly felt heavy. Her brain half-registered Bridget's side of the conversation with her mum. 

"Hi mum, I don't really have time to chat right now, can I call you la-,"

"Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry mum."

Franky's ears perked when she realized there might be a problem. 

"Yes, of course you can. Just send me your flight info and I'll be there."

Franky's eyes involuntarily widened. Flight info? Shit. 

"No, no, stop, of course it's fine. And yes, Franky's here- I'll tell her." 

There was another pause.

"Okay, I'll see you both soon then, love you too. Bye." 

Franky looked up at Bridget, and when she spoke her voice came out meek and raspy. "Everything okay?" 

Bridget put her phone back on the table and brought her hand to the back of her neck.

"A friend of my parents' past away. He lived right outside of Melbourne, and the services are tomorrow. So...they're getting on the next flight out and staying here tonight." 

Bridget eyed Franky with a nervous half-smile.

"They'll be here in a few hours." 


	19. Twenty Questions Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky meets Bridget's parents for the first time when they stop in for an impromptu visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go ;)  
> So much love for all of your comments and kudos <3

The wind howled and rattled against the car as the dusk sky darkened, but Bridget hardly noticed. Her mind kept replaying the scene from the kitchen just two hours prior, as if her brain was stuck on a blurry loop. 

It's not as if Franky's confession had been shocking. In fact, it was so entirely unsurprising that she should have seen it coming. That was Franky, through and through. A surfeit of passionate energy and empathy; a storm that rained down in reckless bravery. But none of this knowledge prevented the intense pinpricks in Bridget's chest; tightness she hadn't felt since the night of the H block fire.  

Bridget sighed and rested her head against the window as she waited in the airport's car park for her parents' plane to land. 

Would Franky even be there when they got back to the house?

_I can leave_ , Franky had said, as if she thought she were suddenly unwanted company. As if this wasn't her home. 

Bridget had blinked twice, not sure if she had heard her right. 

_Why would I want you to leave? Unless you want to, of course. I know this is really shit timing, and if you don't want to meet my parents right now, I understand. I would really like you to stay, though. Can we just... can we put this on hold for tonight?_

Her brain finally took itself off its incessant loop, instead replaying the first time Bridget ever talked about her parents with Franky. 

_My parents are two of the lucky ones. Enjoying their recent retirement, traveling the world together, still sickeningly in love. My dad was a pediatric oncologist. He's one of the those people that just has such a calming presence; makes people trust him. He's very easy to talk to._

Bridget smiled as she recalled Franky's response. 

_So, you take after your dad._

Bridget had grinned like a fool at the compliment, her heart flipping in her chest at Franky's underlying meaning. 

_My mum's similar in that she's very compassionate. She was a high school English teacher. She has a... a little less of a calming effect, she worries a lot. And it wouldn't be fair not to warn you that she's the nosy one._

_So you're saying she'll be super thrilled to find out you've shacked up with a former violent ex-con, right?_ Franky had teased. 

Her mother definitely hadn't been "thrilled", that was for sure. 

_Bridget, honey... but your career... and the violence..._

Bridget had tried to be as patient as possible during that very long phone conversation with her mum. 

But Mary Westfall trusted her daughter, and ultimately, just wanted her to be happy. 

Bridget was torn from her reverie when her car's Bluetooth shrilled to life. 

"Hi dad," she greeted as she put the car back into drive.

"Hey there, Bridgie," her dad responded cheerfully. He never did grow out of calling her by her childhood nickname. 

"We're getting off the plane now, hun. We'll be at terminal A."  

*** 

An hour later, Bridget turned her key in the front door, her parents on her heels. Franky's car was still parked in its usual spot on the street, and Bridget was overcome with relief to discover that she wasn't walking into an empty house. 

"Gee, we haven't been here since when, last March? The landscaping looks great," Tom said as he knelt down by some purple Geraniums lining the walkway. 

"Thanks, dad." 

Bridget pushed open the door and was immediately accosted with a scent she hadn't smelled for months, but one she was delightfully familiar with. 

"Oh, what is that, Bridge? I thought you said we were going to order out, that smells amazing!" Mary exclaimed. 

"Seems there might be a change of plans, eh?" Bridget smiled at her mum and dad as she shucked their bags onto the hardwood floor. 

"Franky?" Bridget called out as she hung up their jackets. 

Franky suddenly emerged from the center hallway in a flurry, clasping a silver bracelet on her wrist as she walked towards them. She had changed from earlier, now donning dark jeans and an oversized silky black blouse.  

"Hi!" She smiled, extending her right hand out as she approached Bridget's parents. 

"Oh no, stop with that, come here and give us a hug," Tom Westfall declared as he enveloped Franky in bear hug. 

Bridget offered Franky an apologetic smile as she caught her eyes over her father's shoulder. 

When Franky stepped out of Tom's embrace, she turned and exhaled a "hello" again to Mary, who greeted her with a hug, albeit less snug, as well. 

Bridget grinned from both amusement and slight apprehension as she clapped her hands together. 

"Right, so Franky, these are my parents, Tom and Mary." 

"It's great to meet you both, although I'm sorry for the circumstances. I'm so sorry for your loss," Franky acknowledged. 

There were those emotive, empathetic eyes that Bridget loved so much. 

"Thank you, dear, that's very kind," Mary offered Franky a half-smile. 

Bridget turned to Franky, unable to help the slight glint in her eye and the wag of her eyebrows. "Is that your Thai chicken I smell?" 

Franky folded her arms across her chest and flashed Bridget an open-mouthed smirk. 

"Maybe," she winked. "Um, I thought everyone might be hungry? It's nothing big, just some garlic Thai chicken and stir fry. Bridget mentioned that you guys like Thai food." 

"She's being modest, it'll be the best stir-fry you've ever tasted," Bridget interjected. 

"Oh boy, we do love Thai, thanks, Franky. This is a wonderful surprise, eh Mare? We never expect to be fed a home cooked meal when we visit Bridgie, we weren't sure that gorgeous kitchen she has was even being used," Tom teased. 

Bridget narrowed her eyes at her father as Franky laughed and quipped, "Oh don't worry, it gets plenty of use now beyond all those great frozen dinners this one cooks up." 

Bridget rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, mum, dad, why don't you guys go get situated while I help Franky get the dinner out, yeah?" 

"Sure, honey," Mary responded, before she and Tom made their way towards the guest room, leaving Bridget and Franky alone. 

Bridget rung her hands together and peered up at Franky, the lines around her mouth turning slightly upward. 

"Hi," she breathed softly, inching toward Franky until she could reach out and touch her. 

"Hiya," Franky bit the bottom of her lip with the top of her teeth. 

"Thanks for making dinner. Thanks for staying," Bridget said softly. 

Franky nodded slightly, crinkling her nose. "Ya reckon the dinner helped with a first impression?" 

Franky smiled as if she were teasing, but Bridget knew better. She could only imagine Franky an hour ago, probably pacing in the kitchen, her arms above her head, before whipping open the pantry and turning her music all the way up, the way she always did to calm her nerves. 

"Listen, Gidge, I'm sor-" Franky began, but Bridget stopped her. 

"Shh, I know, okay? Me too. Let's just..." she paused and inhaled a deep breath. 

"Let's just enjoy dinner, sound good? I know we need to talk, but I think you'll have enough on your plate with these two," She winked, gesturing to the guest room. 

Franky nodded.

Bridget exhaled again. "I'm sorry that this was just sprung on you. I know this isn't quite your idea of a fun Saturday night. I hope they're not too much..." Bridget rambled, trailing off. 

Franky shrugged. "Well, definitely don't have much experience in the parents department, but I think I can handle it," she winked. 

Bridget smiled, nodding, before closing the space between her and Franky and placing a light peck on her cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, before heading towards the kitchen. 

***

Bridget sighed contently as she inhaled her third forkful of the stir fry; in all the commotion, she hadn't realized how hungry she was. She peered across the table to see her parents having a very similar experience. 

Tom was the first to speak after a solid two minutes of strictly sighs of approval, coupled with the scraping of silverware on their glass plates filling the room.

"Franky, Bridge wasn't kidding, eh? This is delicious." 

"Glad you like it," Franky smiled. 

Mary nodded in agreement. "May I ask what you added to the garlic? The spice is divine." 

Franky finished her biteful before answering. "Ah, just some thyme and black pepper flakes. Nothing fancy." 

"Well I always said the best cooks know how to make the most ordinary ingredients take like new. Did you learn this particular combination from your time on the cooking show, Franky?" 

Bridget stopped chewing. _Fuck._

Franky cleared her throat. "Um, nah. Just something I've been fooling around with for a while." 

Bridget glared at her mother, desperately hoping she would take the hint and drop the line of questioning Bridget knew she was already on. 

"And while you were in Wentworth, were you able to continue to practice your talents in the kitchen? Or not? Because of the nature of your... um-" 

Bridget put her fork down and cocked her head. "Mum, how about we just enjoy dinner, save the inappropriate and invasive questions for another time, hmm?" 

"I'm not trying to be invasive, dear- I'm just curious and making conversation," Mary responded. 

Franky took a deep breath. "Ah, yeah- it's fine, Gidge. Really. Um, to answer your question, I was the head of kitchen detail during my last year inside." 

Out of the corner of her eye Bridget caught sight of Franky's slightly bouncing foot under the table. 

Bridget knew there was no way in hell Franky would be this patient with anyone else. She almost wished Franky would shoot her mother her usual smirk and tell her to mind her own goddamn business. 

But she didn't, so Mary kept going. Her mum was a wonderful person, but she was so fucking nosy, and Bridget knew it was killing her that she didn't know every little detail about Franky's life- a life that was so unbelievably foreign to her mother that it was difficult for her to comprehend.

"I see, so do you feel that you're a different person than the one in that YouTube video?" 

It only lasted a millisecond, but Bridget saw the grimace wash over Franky's features as she bit the inside of her lip.  

Bridget slammed her glass of water onto the table.

"Jesus, mum, enough! Enough with the twenty question interrogation, yeah? All you should be concerned with right now is that Franky is a wonderful, kind person who makes your daughter very happy. She's good to me, and good for me. Isn't that all you should care about at this point? Since you don't even know her? So why don't we just enjoy dinner and have a nice time and you can get to know Franky like a normal person, mum." 

A beat of awkward silence settled over the table, the only sound resonating being Tom's knife scraping chicken onto his fork and into his mouth. 

Mary glanced away and sighed. Bridget knew she embarrassed her mother, but she wasn't going to stand for Franky being thrown into the hot seat, no matter if there was no ill-will behind her mother's intentions. 

When Mary turned back to the table, she looked at Bridget, then Franky. "I'm sorry, Franky, if I made you uncomfortable in any way. That was not my intention." 

She gestured to her left and across the table at Tom and Bridget. "And its true that these two are always on my case to stop poking into people's business." 

Franky took a deep breath. "Nah, it's all good, Ms. Westfall." 

"Mary," Bridget's mother corrected Franky. 

Franky flashed her a brief closed-lip smile. "Listen, I understand why would want to know these things. Um, I do want you know, for you both to know, that I've worked very hard to distance myself from the life you've no doubt heard and read about. And..." 

Franky cleared her throat. 

"And I love Bridget, very much, and I'm not going to do anything to fu...screw-that up." 

Franky glanced over at Bridget, and Bridget knew she was talking to her just as much as her parents. Bridget felt tears begin to prick the backs of her eyes, and she coughed and took a sip of her wine. Why was she she so god damn emotional today? 

Bridget placed a hand on Franky's knee and rubbed circles on her jeans with her thumb. 

Tom and Mary both smiled at Franky, and Bridget noticed the hint of shade of pink creeping up Franky's neckline. She reckoned that Franky had never in her life made a declaration quite like that before, and most certainly not to near-strangers. The realization of the boundaries that Franky was learning to push herself to brought those tears she was desperately trying to prevent come to fruition, and she had to wipe the bottom of her eye. 

"And that is certainly all anyone can ask of.. well.. anyone," Tom spoke up. 

"I think that deserves a toast," he declared. "To family, and to this delicious dinner, and to love, eh?" 

Bridget picked her glass up and raised her eyebrows. What a strange day. 

She glanced over at Franky, who was already eyeing her with an amused, kind of nervous expression. Bridget squeezed her knee before clinking her glass to her dad's. 

"That's for damn sure. Here, here." 

***

The rest of the dinner carried on with mostly small talk, half of which Bridget and her mother could barely get a word in edgewise after the topic of reading lists came up. Bridget guessed that her dad and Franky had spent a good twenty minutes discussing the historical and predictive values of George Orwell's _Animal Farm_ and _1984_. But she wasn't complaining. In fact, she probably could have sat there all night, listening to the musings of two of the smartest, most captivating, minds she had ever known in her whole life.  

But it was getting late and her parents had a long day tomorrow. 

"Franky, we'll see you in the morning, yes?" Mary asked as she helped clear the dishes. 

Franky hesitated, glancing from Mary and back to Bridget. 

Bridget opened her mouth to tell Franky that of course she was staying, but Tom interjected before Bridget had the chance. 

"Please tell me we will- I hear you make the meanest chocolate pancake." 

"Ah, well that's true- can't let you leave for the day with relying on Bridget to feed ya, can we?" Franky winked. 

Bridget rolled her eyes again, but couldn't bring herself to be annoyed at the jab. 

The four said their goodnights, and Tom and Mary made their way down to the guest room, leaving Franky and Bridget alone again in the kitchen. 

The door audibly shut down the hall, and Franky turned to Bridget and crossed her arms. 

"Thanks, Gidge," she said earnestly.

Bridget furrowed her brow in confusion. 

"For what?"

"For what you said at dinner, to your mum. For sticking up for me, even though I know you're still angry at me." 

Bridget's eyes softened as she sighed and took a step closer to Franky. 

"Babe, first of all, I'm not angry. And second of all, I've got your back. That will never change, and it certainly doesn't come with conditions."

Franky opened her mouth, but paused, seemingly tying her thoughts together. 

"Can I talk first?" Bridget asked softly. 

Franky nodded. 

"I'm sorry, Franky. I'm sorry for the way I jumped down your throat earlier when you told me about helping the kid. It's just that... it's just that when you were telling me this, about how you were getting close to him and how you had been in Ferguson's apartment- all I could see was you, sitting in a cell again, or, even worse, gunned down somewhere on the street. And I couldn't get it out of my head, I couldn't shake it. So, I'm not exactly thrilled at the scenario, but I never want you to think that I don't trust you, Franky. And I.." 

Bridget took a shaky breath before continuing. 

"...I fell in love with that relentless bravery and gutsy drive, and I can't just ask you to turn those qualities off when it suits me, now can I? I'm so proud of you, I'm always proud of you, and this kid? He has no idea how lucky he is to have you in his corner." 

Franky closed the space between her and Bridget and took her face in her hands, splaying her fingers from Bridget's cheek to her temple. 

"I thought a lot about what ya said when you left to go to the airport. You're right, Gidge. Sometimes I still forget that this battle I'm fighting, it doesn't just involve me anymore. And I'm workin' on it, I swear to ya. Because having you in my corner means more to me than any of this other shit."

Franky stroked Bridget's cheek as tears glistened in her eyes, and Bridget couldn't take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around Franky's waist, burying her face in her chest.

"Just please promise me you'll be careful, that's all I'm asking," Bridget sighed. 

"I promise. Hey, and Ferguson goes to trial in a few days, and then all this shit will be done. And they can shlep her off to some other prison, far, far away from here, right?" 

Bridget nodded. "That's the plan."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with my mum's interrogation tonight, I really am. She can be so.."  Bridget trailed off. 

"Hey, it's okay, it really is, Gidge. Listen, the only experience with mums I have are my own, and the ones in the foster shit hole, and compared to them, your mum is fuckin' ace, literal sunshine," Franky smiled. 

Bridget mirrored Franky's expression. 

"Hey, and I love your dad, too," she added.

Bridget's smile reached her eyes and she trailed her hands down Franky's arms and looped them around her waist again. 

"Oh, and he definitely loves you. I don't think anyone's indulged him in such a tantalizing conversation over the nuances of historical fiction in quite some time."

Franky cocked her head as she widened her eyes in an open-mouth smirk. 

"Are you making fun of me, Ms. Westfall?" 

Bridget chuckled and beamed at her, splaying her fingers in Franky's hair at the base of her neck. 

"No. just the opposite, in fact." 

Bridget craned her head up and placed a gentle kiss on Franky's lips. Lips, she realized, she hadn't kissed all day. That would have to remedied. 

Bridget deepened the kiss and pulled Franky's hips against her. 

"I think we can turn in early too, yeah?" Bridget breathed when she broke the kiss, nipping gently at Franky's earlobe. 

"Sure thing... Bridgie." 

Bridget playfully smacked her on the arse. "How did I know you weren't possibly going to let that one go?" 

"Nah, I definitely wasn't. But I'll tell ya, I think it's kind of fuckin' adorable," Franky said softly as she scrunched her features. 

"Oh you do, do you?" Bridget trailed light kisses down Franky's neck and fiddled with the top button of her black blouse. 

"I do. Hey, Gidge?" 

"Yes?" Bridget tugged Franky's hand towards the direction of the bedroom. 

"Not that I would know, but isn't there some weird 'no sex' rule when parents are in the same house?" 

Bridget chuckled. 

"Well, I've never been one to shy away from breaking the rules for a good cause," Bridget drawled. 

"No... no, you haven't." 


	20. Hazy Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget had always assumed that the first grieving loss that she and Franky would experience as a couple would be far down the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is it, for now at least! I can't thank everyone enough for all of the feedback and kudos. You all have really encouraged me to continue writing! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the last chapter, although I have to apologize that this is ending on such a heavy note! (I guess we can thank s4 for that). But, I promise some fluff is in the works, and here's to hoping that s5 gives us some great new material :)

Bridget didn't know how long she had been sitting on the patio. Five minutes? An hour? She needed to collect herself and her thoughts before she went inside. But it was as if there was nothing in her mind to collect. She was tapped out. 

She had always naively assumed that the first grieving loss that she and Franky would experience as a couple would be far down the line, an aging relative of Bridget's perhaps. Death is hard, no matter how the dice is rolled. But this was... something else entirely. 

Bridget sighed and blinked upwards towards the clear night sky. She realized, absentmindedly, that she hadn't seen this many stars in the sky since last year. How ironic, that there they were, shining bright, on tonight of all nights. 

Intellectually, she knew that the stars were visible because the recent haze that coated Melbourne had finally subsided. But it didn't stop her heart from clinging onto the only sign of hope she had seen all day. 

Bridget finally stood and entered the house. The kitchen light was on, a soft yellow hue illuminating the countertop, but the rest of the house was dark. For a second she panicked, her chest tightening, before her eyes fell on the couch, and the two blanketed feet peeking over the armrest. 

Her mind spoke to her after what felt like an eternity of silence. 

_Breathe, she's safe._

Bridget walked over to the couch and knelt down next to Franky's sleeping form. She desperately wished she didn't have to wake Franky. Maybe she could just crawl next to her, hold her, prolong her peace for just a little while longer. But just as she always did, Franky started to stir as soon as her subconscious felt Bridget's presence. The result of a lifetime of sleeping with one eye open, Bridget reckoned. 

Franky blinked her eyes open, a sleepy smile spreading across her face when she caught sight of Bridget. 

But as quickly as the smile appeared, it was gone, replaced with a look that Bridget could only describe as a mix between terror and relief. 

Franky shot up from her previously horizontal position on the couch, her arms reaching out to wrap themselves around Bridget's shoulders. 

Did Franky already know about Bea? No, it wasn't possible. 

Bridget stood halfway and maneuvered herself so she was sitting on the edge of the couch. She circled her arms around Franky's waist and gently tucked her girlfriend's head into the crook of her neck. 

Bridget held Franky in silence until Franky's grip around her neck became so tight that Bridget thought she was going to lose her breath; Franky was clinging to her for dear life. 

"Franky, baby?" 

"I'm fine," Franky choked out. 

And then, almost immediately, Bridget heard a muttered "fuck" as Franky white-knuckled the collar of Bridget's blouse. Her body started to quiver under Bridget's embrace before silent sobs wracked throughout her body. 

"I'm sorry," Franky cried against Bridget's newly tear-soaked chest. 

"Shane... the court... gun" Franky choked out between sobs. 

 _What?_ Bridget's heart hammered in her chest. 

As soon as Bridget felt Franky's sobs start to subside, she gently extracted their tangled bodies and put her hands on either side of Franky's face. She wiped her tear-stained eyelids and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

"Franky? What happened?" 

As Franky shakily recounted the events at the courthouse, Bridget desperately tried to focus on her words even as her own body screamed at her. 

Her vision blurred. Her ears rung. Her chest felt so heavy it seemed as if it were going to collapse. 

Franky had stared down the barrel of a gun today. She almost didn't come home tonight. 

_Oh, god._

As Franky collapsed again into her arms, Bridget's chest was flooded with relief. Relief, and sheer gratitude that she was clinging to this beautiful and shaken, but very much alive, woman.

There were still so many questions. 

Where was this gun? Where was Shane? Were there any witnesses? But right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered, in this moment, was that Franky's heart was still beating against Bridget's chest. 

Bridget could feel the exhaustion coming off of Franky's limp body in waves. 

There was another feeling, deep within inside Bridget, that she wasn't quite expecting. Guilt. Someone had died today; died in the name of tragic injustice, but it wasn't Franky, and for that, Bridget thanked her lucky stars. 

She wondered if she were the worst person in the world to be so fucking thankful that if someone had to die today, that it wasn't Franky. 

"What's this?" Franky's voice broke through Bridget's reverie. 

Bridget looked down at the dark red spot on the collar of her blouse, and the couple of lighter streaks that surrounded it. 

_Shit, how had she not noticed that?_

Bea's blood, no doubt, transferred from Vera, when she too allowed herself to collapse against Bridget for all of a minute. 

"Is that blood?" Franky's voice came out in a conundrum of meek and frantic. 

Bridget didn't want to have to tell Franky who the blood belonged to. She didn't want to have to tell Franky any of this. Franky had been through hell and back today and really, all she wanted to do was take her upstairs, lay her down on the bed and curl around her body, until they woke up from this never-ending nightmare. 

But she had no choice. 

"Is that your blood?" Franky squeaked, her eyes wide. 

"No baby, no it's not." 

"Well then who's is it?" 

Bridget took a deep breath and grasped Franky's hand in hers. She mustered up the last drop of strength she had left and took a deep breath. 

"Something happened at Wentworth today, Franky. Someone didn't... someone didn't make it." 

Franky's face twisted in confusion, then her features dropped in sadness. 

"Allie? Oh, fuck. Poor Bea." 

"No, not Allie. Allie pulled through. She woke up, actually..." 

Franky's red, puffy eyes widened. "What? Oh my god, that's great." 

Bridget frowned and Franky bit her lip as uncertainty settled across her face again. 

"For fuck's sake, Gidge. Just tell me, what happened?" 

Bridget inched even closer to Franky and squeezed her hand. "Baby, I need you to listen, okay? The details are still not completely clear but..." 

Bridget honestly couldn't remember what she had exactly said to Franky; how she told her that her friend (although, a simple word like "friend" didn't seem to exactly cover the depths of the two former top dogs' relationship) had died, stabbed to death, gutted just beyond the gates in broad, shining daylight. How she tried to explain how Bea could have possibly been outside, alone, in the first place. (But Bridget knew the real answer to that one, didn't she?) How she conveyed that she believed this was Bea's plan all along. 

_I don't think she was planning on coming back._

For the most part, Franky sat in silence, staring at Bridget with bleak, glazed over eyes. And when Bridget was done speaking, Franky simply looked away, the features on her face contorting in the same way they did when she heard something she thought was absolutely ridiculous. 

"Nah, this isn't possible. I'm sure it's just some mistake," Franky declared confidently with a shake of her head. 

Bridget sighed and placed her hands on Franky's forearms. 

"Franky, darling, I'm so, so, sorry." 

Franky raised her voice an octave. "No, you don't understand, it can't be right. I _just_ saw her!"

"I know." 

"And there is no fucking way in hell that she would do something so stupid if she knew Allie pulled through." Franky's head was still shaking back and forth as if she had a tick and the constant motion was out of her control. 

"She didn't know. From what I understand, Bea was told that Allie was never going to wake up," Bridget said gently. 

Franky suddenly retracted her arms from Bridget's touch, wrapping them around her own waist. 

"I fucking told Bea not to fucking give up on her! Nah, there's no way, Gidge, just no way." 

Franky bolted from the couch and ran towards the front door, and Bridget was thankful her legs, which felt akin to melting jelly, responded in time and sprung up after her. 

Franky haphazardly tugged her boots on as Bridget stopped just at the front door, effectively blocking Franky from leaving. 

"Where are you going?" Bridget asked frantically.

"Jesus, Gidge, move! I don't have time for this!" 

"There's no where to go Franky, Bea is gone," Bridget said as her voice cracked. 

Franky made a move towards the door but Bridget reached for her arm. 

"She's gone, Franky." 

Franky shook Bridget off and bolted again for the door, but Bridget was faster and got in between it and Franky, so that her back was pressed against the door.

"Bridget, I mean it- move." Franky's eyes were stern, but there was a scared softness present, and her voice was loud but threatening to crack.

"Bea is gone, Franky," Bridget repeated again. 

And then, all at once, Bridget saw it in Franky's eyes- the breaking realization. 

Franky's head rolled back on her neck as she choked out another, softer "no".

Bridget thought she could feel her heart physically breaking; a crushing, painfully slow process, similar to the drawn-out process of a broken car windshield. First it cracked once, then twice, until finally it cracked enough times that it was rendered non-functioning. 

It reached that last fatal break when Franky turned around and collapsed onto her knees in front of her, silent sobs wracking her body for the second time that night. 

Bridget, too, fell to her knees as her body moved on autopilot as she took Franky back into her arms, her chest pressed against Franky's back. 

She wasn't sure how long they stayed there like that; the concept of time seemed elusive at this point. 

Just as they did earlier, Franky's sobs eventually subsided, and Bridget stilled her hand on Franky's back. Bridget didn't notice at what point Franky had turned around in her arms, wrapping her shaking limbs around Bridget's waist and tucking Bridget's head into the crook of her neck, just as Bridget had done for Franky earlier. 

And Bridget nearly didn't feel Franky tugging her upwards, either. 

"Come on, Gidge," Franky whispered as she rested her lips against Bridget's forehead.

Bridget nodded silently and let Franky help her up. 

Before she knew it, they were in the bathroom, the faint sound of running water registering in the background. Bridget didn't protest, not that she had the energy to anyway. She knew this was how Franky often coped. When the stress became too much to bear, when her well-worn mask needed to be shed. When she needed to wash off blood and wounds. 

Franky quickly undressed herself, then undid the buttons of Bridget's blood-stained blouse, letting it drop to the floor.

"How did.. the blood get there, anyway?" Franky asked softly. 

"Vera," Bridget answered simply. She was one of the first to get to Bea." 

Franky nodded as she tugged Bridget's slacks and underwear off and dropped them in the pile of dirty clothes. She stuck her hand in the shower to test the water temperature, and then guided Bridget in. 

The hot water cascading down on Bridget's tired body felt like heaven. She leaned against her girlfriend as Franky lathered shampoo into her hands and gently massaged it into Bridget's hair. She scrubbed Bridget's body with soap, and when there was no residue left, she wrapped her arms around Bridget's warm, soaked body, holding her under the hot water; washing away the blood and wounds.  

"You can let go, too, you know," Franky whispered so softly against Bridget's wet head that she had barely heard her. 

"You took care of everyone today, don't lie- I know ya did. Let go, it's okay." 

Bridget shook her head against Franky's breast. "You need me." 

"You need someone, too. Isn't that what you say? That everyone needs support?" 

Bridget stayed silent, until Franky kissed her head and told her to let go once more. 

The dam broke, and tears ran down Bridget's cheek so fast she wasn't sure what belonged to her and what belonged to the shower. Her body shook in Franky arms as cried for the first time that day. She cried for Bea, and the completely unjust way her short life ended. She cried for Allie. She cried for all of the women. She cried for Franky, for the terror she faced today alone. 

And she cried for herself. 

They didn't leave the shower until the water turned cold. They helped each other out and dried off, before heading to the bedroom without another preamble. They climbed in, still naked and their hair wet, and slid under the covers, meeting each other in the middle. 

Bridget gently pushed Franky's fringe out of her eyes and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. 

"I love you," Bridget whispered against her skin. 

"I love you, too." 

There was so much left to say, so much left to discuss. Bridget was utterly terrified of the uncertainty of what was to come in the next few days. This wasn't anywhere near over, and she shuddered at the thought of how many more lives were at risk, including Franky's. But right now, they were both safe. And she supposed the crushing fear could wait until morning. 

"Hey, Gidge?" 

Bridget peeked at Franky and saw her gaze pointed in the direction of the open window they had forgotten to shut. 

"Hmm?" 

"The stars, they're so bright tonight," Franky mused. 

"The haze lifted," Bridget mumbled, her exhausted body nearly succumbing to sleep. 

Franky didn't say anything back, and soon Bridget felt her breathing even out. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the crook of Franky's sleeping form, turning her head so that the sky was in her line of vision. 

And so the two women dozed off entangled in one another, shadows from the constellations and moonlight dancing on their figures. There were dark nights ahead, of that Bridget was certain. But the stars would still shine, whether covered by a thick haze or not. 


End file.
